Je Cours
by SimmeringGreen
Summary: Isabella is leaving Forks, and all of the memories she has there. When she encounters Edward, a dark man with something locked deep in his heart, will they heal or destroy each other? AH. Quick posting. (Open to French translations)
1. Frightfully Entice

**Is anybody still out there? It seems that fanfiction has been pretty dormant, but I've been wanting to get this story out for a long time. I don't know how long it'll last, I guess that depends on the readers. I don't know where I'm going with it either so I guess we're in for a ride, huh?**

**Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts, place your trays in the upright position and get ready for take-off.**

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters don't sue me or anything...

* * *

**Frightfully Entice**

**I.**

"Jasper, I want to get a job."

Isabella heard shuffling on the other end, presumably as Jasper swung his long legs over the edge of his bed and sat up to fully digest what his best friend was telling him. She could see him, almost as if he were in the room with her. Wiry, and long, but hard and muscular. He was probably rubbing the back of his head now, still unsure about his new military hair cut. His brow would be slightly furrowed over his sharp blue eyes.

"Baby girl," he started slowly, his speech barbed with his Southern drawl. He was going to try to entice her to change her mind, but Isabella's mind was already made up.

"I'm doing it," she said before he could continue. "I've already brought a plane ticket to New York and everything. I sent my resume and my CV, and I've got an entry-level position. This will be good for me, Jasper."

Jasper was silent, mulling over the idea. He finally sighed, and Isabella knew she had won.

"Entry-level?" he asked, accompanied by the sound of faint creaking as he got off of his bed and presumably shuffled into his kitchen. "You don't have to start off so low."

"I know," Isabella jumped in. "But I want to. I've never worked for anything in all my life. It's going to feel good to gain something because I worked for it, not because..."

Isabella trailed off. They both knew where this was going.

"Do you want me to drive you to the airport?" He asked, drawling out the word 'airport' as if pronouncing it in French. Isabella bit her lip. There was no harm in that.

"Sure," she replied, running a hand over her face.

"When do you leave?"

Isabella paused. "This evening at 6:45."

There was a pregnant pause, as Jasper undoubtedly stopped whatever he was doing to process this information.

"This evening?" he asked, prepared to protest.

"The tickets are non-refundable," she answered.

Jasper didn't answer, and she exhaled a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"You don't have to drive me," she finally said into the silence. "I can go on my own. I was just telling you. I don't need you to approve of my decisions."

"Woah, woah," Jasper interrupted. "Slow down, baby girl. Can't I be worried about you?"

Isabella closed her eyes. Jasper had been worried about her since the moment they met. He was her protector, her best friend. She worried sometimes that he cared more about her than he did about himself. He had sacrificed time and time again for her, and she wanted to give him his life back. She was capable of doing as much, despite the popular belief.

"You're always worried about me," she said in a voice that came out more feeble than she had intended. "I'm 25 now," she continued in a firmer voice. "I need to prove to you that I can be on my own. I know I can."

"You don't have to prove anything to me, baby girl," Jasper replied, his Southern drawl accentuated by the softness in his tone.

Isabella bit her lip, but didn't argue. She knew how that would end.

"Listen, I've got to go finish packing up," she said after a moment. "I'll see you later?"

"I'll pick you up at two," he answered immediately.

Isabella paused. "Jasper?"

"Isabella."

"I love you."

Jasper paused for a moment, and then let out a soft laugh that sent shivers down her spine, she closed her eyes and let his laugh envelope her.

"You already know I feel the same," he finally replied.

They hung up, and Isabella laid back on her bed with an exhale of air. She closed her eyes.

She couldn't believe she was actually doing it. She was leaving Forks, and she was going to New York City. Even if she had wanted to turn back, she couldn't possibly do so now. She had already purchased an apartment that was near the building where she was due to work. Her realtor, an energetic woman named Alice Brandon had arranged for the apartment to be furnished and ready for Isabella's arrival. Alice had even offered to pick her up from the airport, an offer she had politely declined.

She sat up and looked around. After 17 years, she would finally be leaving this small room. There wasn't anything that she was going to miss. She had already packed up her clothes and personal belongings. There were no pictures for her to take, no posters for her to roll up. Her room, much like her life, was quite bare and cold. She wouldn't miss it at all.

She laid back and closed her eyes, intending to take a quick nap, but falling into a light sleep.

Images flashed before her eyes, moving quickly as if they all wanted to have a chance to present themselves, but didn't have the strength necessary to linger before the next image overtook it. Some of them were of happy times, long ago. Memories that Isabella hadn't even known that she still remembered flashed up at her, but before she could enjoy the warmth and happiness that were associated with those times, the colder, more recent memories began. Each face was like a lash onto her skin. She could feel her eyes burn with unshed tears, but she had long since decided that she was done crying for herself. She endured the memories that assaulted her brain, clenching her fists and trying not to cry out.

This was normal.

The control she displayed was a product of months and months of work. She couldn't stop the memories from coming, but she could learn how to dominate them. Finally, the rush of memories stopped, as if exhausted. The episodes always started and ended in the same place, but they had the same effect each time. Her eyes shot open, and she was cold. The sun was beginning to wane in the October sky. She unclenched her fists, and rubbed at the crescent moon shaped marks that her nails had left on her palm. A nagging headache began at the back of her head, threatening to spread if she didn't take care of it soon. Her medicines were already packed away, and she didn't want to rifle through her bags to find them. She breathed in deeply through her nose, hoping to relax enough for her brain to stop attacking itself.

Her phone rang, lighting up the semi-darkness that had begun creeping into her room.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside, baby girl," Jasper replied, his voice washing over her, making her forget her headache temporarily.

"I'll be right there."

She had a few hours before her headache became unbearable. There was no time to look for her medication right now, and she didn't want Jasper to think that she was still too ill to travel. She clenched her jaw and grasped hold of her bags. She only had two suitcases, and a book bag, carrying them down the stairs and outside would be no problem. She took another deep breath through her nose and hoped that her headache would wait until she had landed in the Big Apple to spread. On second thought, she reached into her book bag and pulled out a white bottle. She shook out two small pink pills, and threw them back without any drink.

That should hold off the headache for a while.

**II.**

Isabella didn't remember much of the ride from Forks to Seattle. She had ignored Jasper's worried glances for a few minutes before her eyelids grew heavy and closed. When she came to, they were only 15 minutes away from the airport, and a blanket had magically appeared around Isabella's frame.

"Did you have any interesting dreams?" Jasper asked, a faint smile curving his lips.

Isabella closed her eyes against the pain that had begun to forcefully radiate from the back of her head. She tried to keep her voice steady.

"I dreamed that you were a pilot and we flew around the world and got really great tans," she answered, to the amusement of Jasper.

"We are quite pale," he commented. "Maybe I should move out to New York, too. This Forks weather is terrible for my complexion," he joked. Isabella could sense the underlying gravity of his joke. If she had asked him to come to New York with her, he would have done so in a heartbeat. But she didn't want him to come. She didn't want him to be hovering over her and worrying about her. She wanted him to be free. That's why she had made sure that there were no seats left on her flight before calling him.

"Forks is great for you," she protested. "Pretty boys don't do well in big cities."

Talking was tiring her out, and she needed to preserve her strength. She also didn't want Jasper to see how fatigued she was becoming because of her headache.

Jasper pulled into a parking spot, and hopped out to grab her bags before Isabella could say anything. She protested for a moment, but she was secretly grateful that Jasper had grabbed her bags. She didn't know if she would have been able to handle them. She wished desperately that this spell would lift, but by the increasing pain of her headache, that didn't seem likely.

Isabella got checked in just in time. She sent both of her suitcases off, but clung to her book bag. Jasper walked her as far as the Security Checkpoint, where they both paused. Isabella turned to look at him, hoping desperately that he wouldn't see past her guise. If he did, he didn't say anything. He searched her eyes for a moment, and then abruptly pulled her into a tight hug.

She lifted her arms slowly, and wrapped them around him. Her ear was pressed to his chest, and the strength and evenness of his heartbeat comforted her. The pain of her headache was momentarily abated. She wanted, in that moment, to cling to Jasper and never let him go. She knew she only had to say the word, and he would be driving her back home. He smelled warm, and clean and familiar. His arms were strong and protective around her. Isabella closed her eyes, and savored the moment. The hug seemed to last too long, and yet not long enough.

"I love you, baby girl," Jasper murmured into her ear as he began to pull away.

Isabella smiled, ignoring the burn behind her eyes and the pain that ebbed from the back of her head.

"You already know I feel the same."

She allowed herself a second more of indulgence and then turned abruptly towards the Security Checkpoint line. She handed the plump woman her passport, and was waved through to the metal detectors. When she had passed the checkpoint, and pulled her shoes back on, she turned back, searching for Jasper's tall figure. He was already gone. Isabella sighed - she supposed that was for the best.

* * *

**So what do y'all think? I'll probably post up more later today depending on the vibes I get. I don't know how long this story is going to be or where these characters are headed - they're leading me, I'm just writing down their story.**

**Reading is good, Reviews are better! Bisous.  
**


	2. Courageously Attempt

**Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts, place your trays in the upright position and prepare for take off.**

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, but I sure do love to muck 'em up a bit.

* * *

**Courageously Attempt**

**I.**

Isabella had spent the majority of her flight with a sleep mask on, and ear plugs in, trying to fight the headache that had spread to half of her head. She was in dire pain and discomfort, and her medications were far from her reach.

She sat by the window now. A child in the row behind her had insisted on kicking her chair until finally the man beside her took pity on her and had offered to switch seats. She accepted the offer and thanked him profusely, then immediately shoved her ear plugs back in. She had wished idly for a few moments that she hadn't slept in Jasper's car, perhaps then she would have been able to nap more easily. After a few moments, however, a fitful sleep had claimed her.

She awoke with a start, and felt drastically worse than when she had first entered the plane. Her headache had spread considerably. Her eyes felt grainy, and she heard things as if she were underwater. She sneezed, and then immediately regretted it as pain bloomed in her head. She was also more tired than she was when she had fallen asleep. She took a deep breath and tried to count down the seconds until landing.

Her suffering was all of her fault. She should have taken her medication before she had left the house. She fought back the wave of self-pity that threatened to consume her, and stomped down all the doubt that began to grow about her ability to survive on her own. She wished for a moment that Jasper was beside her. She immediately felt guilty. It was her neediness that had robbed him of his own personal freedom, and here she was falling back into her old habits. A sudden sharp pain sliced through her, and she tensed, trying to ride the wave of pain, but feeling more like she was drowning in it.

"Hey, are you alright?" The man next to her turned concerned blue eyes towards her. He reminded her a bit of jasper. His hair was blonde and long, and tied into a pony-tail at the nape of his neck with a piece of leather cord. He looked frail and lanky, whereas Jasper was lithe and strong. This man had a sharp, small nose and delicate features, whereas Jasper's were strong and more manly.

"I'll be fine in a minute," Isabella answered uneasily, as black dots swam in her vision. She fought unconsciousness desperately. She did not need to be passing out before she had even arrived in New York.

The man's concern was not abated. He hesitated for a moment, then put his book down and stuck his hand into his satchel, withdrawing a bottle of painkillers.

"Here," he said, taking her hand and shaking three blue pills into the palm of her hand. "Take these. Headache?"

Isabella nodded and swallowed the pills before he had the chance to offer her a bottle of water. His eyes dropped down to her lips and throat as she swallowed, and Isabella turned away, uncomfortable with the nature of his attention.

"You should feel better in about half an hour or so," the man said, dragging his gaze back up to her eyes. Isabella smiled weakly.

"Thanks," she replied shakily, feeling cold all of a sudden. Her stomach trembled, and Isabella suddenly found her mouth full of saliva. She was going to vomit. She took rapid deep breaths and tried to calm herself. Throwing up would be terrible, especially since she had forgotten to eat this morning and had slept through the flight's offered meals.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for flying with American Airlines. We will be landing shortly. At this time, the pilot has activated the seat belt light. We ask you to please return to your seats, buckle your seat belts, return your chairs and trays to the upright position, and get ready to land in JFK. Welcome to New York, and we hope you enjoyed your flight with American Airlines."

The soft bell went off at the end of the announcement, and Isabella shivered. Her nausea abated, and she was even more fatigued than before. She wished that she was back in Forks, laying in Jasper's bed and listening to him talk to her about anything and everything. She reprimanded herself sharply for wishing the way she did, and forced herself to think, instead, of the life she was heading towards, not the one she was leaving behind. **  
**

**II.**

Isabella took three steps off of the plane and she already felt dwarfed by the sheer size of JFK. She could only imagine how big New York City was. How many millions of people there are! It would be so easy to get lost. She wouldn't have to change states if she wanted to disappear - she would only have to change neighborhoods. The thought simultaneously terrified and soothed her. No one would be able to find her if she didn't want them to.

She followed the signs towards the baggage claim, and watched carefully for her two suitcases. She had grabbed one when she felt moisture collect in her nose. She sniffed, and sniffed again, but it was persistent. Slightly embarrassed, she pressed a finger to her nostrils, and was shocked when she came away with blood. A nose bleed to accompany her headache? That was new. Her headache had dulled considerably after she had taken the man's offered painkillers, but now fear gripped her as she searched for tissues to stop the blood that trickled out of her nose.

"Are you quite sure that you're alright?"

Isabella looked up and into the eyes of the blue-eyed stranger that she met on the plane. Her cheeks flushed as he appraised her, his eyes lingering on the bloody tissue that she held desperately to her nose.

"It'll end soon," she replied, hoping that her words were true.

The man studied her for a minute, and then pointed at her suitcase.

"Do you have another one?"

Isabella nodded.

"It looks like that one?"

Isabella nodded again.

The man smiled and disappeared. He reappeared moments later, carrying her second suitcase. A triumphant smile was plastered on his face.

"Thank you," Isabella said, afraid to remove the tissue from her nose lest something disgusting should happen. The man grinned.

"I'm James, by the way," he said, extending his hand. He retracted it with a laugh after remembering her situation. "Come on," he said, grasping hold of her suitcase. "I'll go through customs with you."

Isabella smiled gratefully, and with one hand on her suitcase and the other on the tissue pressed to her nose, she followed the man to customs.

When they exited the airport, James hailed a cab for her, and handed her a small business card, offering his services to her, be it a tour around Manhattan or anything else she needed. Isabella had accepted the card, flushed, and entered the taxi with a small wave. Only when she was in the back of the cab did she remove the tissue from her nose and inspect her face to see if there were any traces of blood left. There was some dried blood that she rubbed away easily. She didn't sniff too hard for fear of starting another nosebleed.

She sighed and settled back into her seat, looking at the business card. James was a lawyer, and he worked at a firm not too far from her new workplace. She put the card into her wallet, resolved to contact him soon. A small bubble of pride grew in her, warming her face. She had already made a friend, and it was only her first day here alone. She would be fine. Jasper would be proud.

**III.**

Alice Brandon called the day after Isabella had settled in. Isabella had been surprised when her phone displayed an unknown number. She was apprehensive about picking it up, but her fears melted away as Alice's voice came through the phone.

"Isabella, dear! How do you like the apartment?"

Isabella smiled. The apartment was tastefully furnished and well equipped with sound and motion activated gadgets that had startled Isabella when she first entered. Her favorite part about the whole apartment was the kitchen. It was separated from the dining and living room because it sat lower than the rest of the house. You had to descend two steps to enter the kitchen. There were no walls that stood between the kitchen and the surrounding area, so Isabella could have friends over and cook for them without feeling separated. She couldn't wait for Jasper to see it. He knew her first love was cooking - there was something calming about creating a meal. Isabella could lose herself for hours at a time creating a banquet that only Jasper would feast on.

"I love the kitchen," she replied shyly.

"I do too!" Alice cried, giddy with excitement. "Did you find the security system to your liking? I know you wanted the apartment to be secure, so I retrofitted a new system. That, with the addition of the doorman should make it pretty safe."

"Yeah," Isabella replied, not wanting to volunteer more information. "It's pretty nice."

They chatted for a few more moments before Alice finally had to buzz away to do something else. She had reminded Isabella to call her later so they could go out for a small lunch that afternoon, and Isabella had found herself agreeing.

She smiled as she put down her phone. She had taken her medication, and she felt stronger than she had the day before, but talking to Alice still exhausted her. It was still early, however, so instead of heading to sleep, Isabella donned a pair of walking shoes and headed out of her apartment. She figured she would walk past her building and get herself acquainted with her office before she was due to start work the next day. She activated her security system, and carefully locked the door behind her. She waved to the kind doorman as she exited the building, immediately getting caught up in the bustle of people.

New York City was nothing like Forks - a fact that had been obvious from the moment she landed. It was lively and full of things to do and people to meet. Isabella looked up at the skyline that was littered with tall buildings that loomed, almost as if trying to touch heaven. If she looked in the right direction, she could make out the peak of the Empire State Building. She smiled to herself. The constant bustle and movement of the city was exactly what she needed, but she worried idly if it would fatigue her.

She walked briskly, enjoying the crisp air and warm sunshine as she headed towards her workplace. She was determined to behave like a New Yorker - independent, self-sufficient, and always on the go. In no time, she arrived at the tall building. She glanced at her watch quickly; it had only taken her 20 minutes to get there.

The building was tall - 26 floors, including the penthouse suite, if she remembered correctly. It was made of black marble, glass and steel. It looked and felt very modern, and suddenly Isabella felt like a small town girl all over again. There was a golden plaque on the front of the building that boasted the address and the company's name. Masen, Cullen & Co. She bit her lip, and walked into the huge turning doors that ejected her into the cool, quiet atmosphere of the lobby.

The lobby was huge, and had a cathedral-like atmosphere. There were two large desks on either side of the room, each with 3 well dressed men standing behind them. They all looked like something out of a spy movie Isabella had seen when she was younger. There was a row of turnstiles before her. To be granted access, she had to press her company ID against a small glass plate. A light flashed green, and she pushed through the turnstile.

Before her was a long corridor, lined with elevators that went to different groups of floors. She walked to the very back, and took the elevator marked '8-12.' There was a small woman with very simple hair cut sitting at a welcome desk when she got off of the elevator on the 12th floor.

"Hi," Isabella said awkwardly, walking over to the desk.

"Hello," the small woman answered.

"I'm Isabella. I start working here tomorrow. Do you by any chance know where my desk is?"

The woman smiled brightly - she looked quite pretty she she did.

"I sure do," she answered.

She led Isabella to a small cubicle tucked away in a corner. Directly across from her half of the floor was divided by a glass wall. There was a door in the middle of the expanse, with golden handles. There was a plaque directly above the handle on one door that read: Garett Addams.

"What's that?" Isabella asked, nodding towards the door.

The small woman flushed a delicate shade of pink, and hesitated before answering.

"That's Mr. Addams's office," she answered, oblivious to Isabella's raised eyebrow. "He's the floor manager. You'll meet him tomorrow."

Isabella nodded, and looked around. Her cubicle was tiny, but she didn't need much space. There weren't many other people on the floor; two men worked silently at their desks, and someone was in the back room making copies.

Isabella turned back to the small woman.

"Thanks for showing me my cubicle," she said, smiling. The woman returned the smile.

"No problem. You'll like it here."

**IV.**

The lobby that Isabella had left was not the one she returned to. There were a large group of people present now, some milling about, and some gathered into large, loud groups. Suddenly, there was a commotion, and several people with microphones and tape recorders sprinted to be the first to greet someone who had pulled up in a black car and was now entering the building.

Isabella stood on her tiptoes, but didn't rush to be a part of the large crowd that had now gathered around the front doors. She caught a few words as people rushed by, something like "CEO," and "charming."

Finally, the person everyone was waiting for pushed through the turning doors, and the lobby exploded with activity. Flashes went off as people took pictures, and cameras started rolling. The people, who Isabella assumed were reporters, began shooting off questions, each vying for the attention of the man who was trying to make his way through the crowd. The men who had occupied positions at the side desks now stood around the man, creating a bubble of space as he moved through them.

He wore dark sunglasses, and he had a shock of coppery hair that was some kind of mix between red and brown. His hair stuck up in odd positions as if he had been pulling at it - but yet, it had a distinctly clean look about it, as if the style had ben crafted and every piece of hair had been set in a specific place. He moved in stony silence, ignoring all of the questions asked of him. He strode through the turnstiles confidently, effectively leaving the majority of the crowd behind. The groups of people who worked in the building maintained a respectful distance from him, and spoke quietly amongst themselves as he passed.

Finally, the security men around him dispersed, offering Isabella a better view. He still wore his sunglasses, but he had a strong, handsome jaw, and full, pink lips. He was tall, and he walked in a way that exuded confidence. Power and grace clung to him as a cloak to a king. His hands were in his pockets, and he had a calm, disinterested air about him - but at the same time Isabella could tell that he was hyper aware to the activities around him. He wore a dark suit that fit him perfectly, displaying a body that seemed strong and agile.

He approached her, and Isabella froze. She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt very nervous of this man who was obviously well respected and popular. He took off his sunglasses, and looked at her as he passed.

The moment their eyes made contact, Isabella couldn't look away. Her cheeks flushed, and her heart sped up. His eyes were an emerald green, bright with knowledge and hot with an emotion Isabella couldn't quite decipher. His gaze was magnetic. Isabella felt awake and lively, she simultaneously felt elation and fear. Emotions whirled in her stomach, and a blaze of heat seared her from her spine to her toes. Her past ailments were forgotten, and she wanted to reach out an touch him. But as quickly as they had made eye contact, he tore his gaze from hers and kept walking, disappearing into an elevator that had been waiting for him.

Isabella's cheeks were hot, and her heart was beating wildly. She took a deep breath, and a feeling of discomfort and apprehension settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Who was that man, and why did he have the power to make her feel like she was soaring?

* * *

**Well, there you have it, folks! The characters are leading, and I'm just following. I don't yet know if I'll post again today, but I'm excited to know what you all think.**

**Read, Review, Repeat - it's the cycle of life. Bisous!**


	3. Forcefully Encourage

**It appears that I was right - the glory days of fanfiction is behind us. A moment of silence.**

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, I promise.

* * *

**Forcefully Encourage**

I.

A woman stood by the 8-12 elevator, wrapped in a cream colored dress and a crimson blush. The dress was modest, but it clung to her curves and made her look ethereal. Her face was as pale and perfect as the moon against the velvety night sky. Her hair was pinned back away from her face on one side, and fell in long, thick mahogany strands that curled slightly at the small of her back.

For one second, their eyes met and the wind was knocked out of his chest, robbing him of coherent thought. Of his breath. Yearning rushed through him like a flame, snapping sharply in his stomach. He took his sunglasses off.

Not okay. He reined in his roaring imagination. She looked young. And she worked for him. A young employee with – his gaze faltered – expressive, brown doe eyes and a really great frame.

He kept walking. Surely a beauty like that was already claimed by some lucky man. He swallowed the sudden burn of jealous that sprung up at the thought of the unnamed woman being wrapped in someone else's embrace.

Edward jabbed the button for the 26th floor a little harder than necessary, and for the second time that day, reined himself in. He didn't even know the woman's name, and it was likely that he would never see her again. Granted, she was beautiful, but he needed to keep his distance.

"Mr. Masen," a soft voice called from his right as he exited the elevator.

His secretary, Angela, was a soft spoken woman who was efficient, and dependable, according to his employee files. Interesting that he had not come across the beauty as he had flipped through them the night before.

"Good morning, Angela," he greeted her warmly, smiling a crooked smile at her. She blushed deeply and dropped her eyes.

"W-Welcome to the office," she said in a voice that was barely understandable. "You have three messages and a brief on your desk."

"Thanks," Edward replied, striding towards the huge expanse that was his office.

It was his first day at Masen, Cullen & Co. He had spent the last few months traveling extensively, and had finally decided to come back to New York after many weeks of pleading and tears from his mother. He hadn't wanted to come back to the big apple, but he somehow found himself booking a direct flight from Paris to JFK, and he still regretted the decision. He would leave as soon as he could, the city held much too many secrets for him.

He sat at his desk, and felt instantly at ease, despite the fact that there was not a solid wall before nor behind him. He had missed this. He flexed his fingers and turned his monitor on. There was something quite satisfying about doing work that you loved.

The three messages that Angela had alerted him about popped up on his monitor. The first was from his mother, wondering if he had gotten home safely and would come over for dinner the next evening. The next was from his brother, Emmett. Edward squinted, but could not decipher the image Emmett had sent. It was probably something lewd. The last was from his dad. It was two simple words: Call me.

Carlisle Cullen was a man that Edward had hoped he would never see again. The man was demanding, infuriating, controlling, and an exact image of what Edward's future would be. Edward had taken his mother's maiden name, and fled his childhood home as soon as he could to be free from Carlisle's grip, and yet, here he was, back under it.

He called his mother first, and after a long while of gushing and praise and excited babbling, Esme finally let him get a word in to politely decline her request for dinner. She sounded disappointed, but Edward couldn't allow himself to go back into that house again. Not yet.

He called Emmett next, and exchanged a few affectionately rude comments with his older sibling. Emmett brought him up to date with everything Edward had missed, including his new engagement to the blonde bombshell, Rosalie Hale.

At the mention of the blonde, Edward could smell honeysuckle, and almost feel the brush of blonde hair against his skin. His stomach revolted, and his vision waned for a moment. He wanted to vomit.

"Edward? Edward. Stop fucking around!" the concern was evident in Emmett's booming voice.

Edward finally caught his breath. He had been distracted for longer than he realized.

"I-I'll talk to you later."

Edward successfully dodged his brother's inquiries, and hung up the phone. He rubbed his temples with one hand, and closed his eyes. He managed to keep his secrets locked tightly away, but sometimes...

Sometimes they were too much to bear.

He picked up the phone once more an dialed Carlisle's number. He was about to hang up, when Carlisle answered the phone.

"Carlisle Cullen," he answered, his voice strong and curt.

"Hello father," Edward replied, unable to keep the smirk off of his face.

"How was France?" Carlisle asked.

Edward rose an eyebrow. "I wouldn't have taken you for the small-talk type," he replied noncommittally.

Carlisle laughed. "There is a company gala tomorrow evening," he said curtly. "I expect you to be there. With a date."

Edward gritted his jaw. "I'll go, but -"

"No," Carlisle interrupted calmly. "You're almost 30. You need to find a wife. Don't you remember the details of your inheritance?"

Edward's grandmother was a crazy woman. She was infatuated with the idea of love, and romance, and as such she had declared each of her grandchildren's inheritance was dependent on whether or not they married. Insanity.

"I don't need an inheritance," Edward replied darkly. "You can't force me to marry someone, Carlisle. It doesn't work that way."

As usual, his father ignored him.

"Company gala tomorrow evening with a date. Goodbye Edward."

The line went dead, and the silence was deafening. If only his father knew, he wouldn't ask him to bring a date.

But he didn't know, and he never would.

**II.**

The day had passed by too quickly for Edward. The company gala loomed like a death threat at 9pm. He still had not found a date - not that he had even looked for one. He rubbed his face in frustration, he couldn't focus anymore. Every second that ticked by on the clock was a second closer towards Carlisle's ire.

He wasn't afraid of Carlisle anymore, far from it. But when the old man decided that he had been offended, he could be quite intimidating. Even Emmett steered clear of their father for fear of provoking him.

"Edward, you've got a phone call on line 1," a familiar voice said.

Edward looked up and grinned at the tall man who leaned comfortably in the doorway. It was Ben, a friend he had met at Dartmouth. He had sandy brown hair, and an easy laugh. He was easy to get along with, and one of Edward's most appreciated friends.

"What's up?" Edward asked, motioning for the man to enter his office and close the door behind him.

"I just got invited to your company gala," Ben said slowly. "I don't work here..."

Edward laughed. "Relax. Carlisle roped me into coming, so I figured you should suffer with me. Since you owe me one."

Ben opened his mouth to protest, then rolled his eyes.

"I owed you one five years ago," he said, giving Edward a hard look. "The owing has expired. I'm not going."

Edward shrugged. "Fine," he said noncommittally. "It's just that Angela would have really loved to go, but she doesn't want to go alone."

Ben tried to put on a casual air.

"You're shitting me," he said, pointing a finger at Edward.

Edward put his hands in the air.

"I kid you not," he replied, his tone grave. "Just yesterday, she was telling me how much she likes you as she painted my nails and curled my hair."

A wadded up paper ball flew towards Edward's head, but he ducked it, laughing. It landed harmlessly behind him.

"Seriously," Edward said, ignoring Ben's red face. "Go ask her. She'll love it."

"I don't know man," Ben replied, looking conflicted.

"Ben," Edward said, narrowing his eyes. "You've been waiting for me to come back here just so you could have an excuse to walk by her desk and talk to her again. I swear if you don't ask her out, I'm firing her."

"You wouldn't," Ben countered.

"Angela?" Edward called, pressing a button that would connect him to her.

"Yes, sir?"

"Would you please come in here for a minute?"

"No problem, Mr. Masen."

Edward grinned conspiratorially as Ben's eyes widened, panicked.

"Stop," he hissed. "Make her go back. Edward, I'm not shitting with you."

Edward shrugged.

"It's too late," he replied innocently. "She has to go."

Ben would have lunged to attack Edward had Angela not walked in at that very moment. She clasped her hands together, and blushed faintly when she noticed Ben's gaze.

"Yes, sir?" she inquired softly, ever the polite worker.

"See, I've decided that –" Edward began, tenting his fingers.

"Will you go to the gala with me tonight?" Ben exhaled, his words tripping over one another as he stood up to block Edward's view of the small girl.

A long silence stretched between the two, and Edward was insanely curious as to what Angela's expression was.

"I mean," Ben backtracked, rubbing the back of his head. "You don't have to. It's just that I'm going, and if you're going, we could probably go together. You know, at the same time. But not if you don't want to. It's up to you. If you're going, that is."

Ben laughed nervously, and Edward had to hold back his laughter. He had never known his friend to be flustered in front of a girl.

"Ben," Angela said softly, placing a small hand on his arm. "I would love to go with you."

"Really?" Ben straightened immediately. "That's - That's great! Should I pick you up at eight?"

"That sounds perfect," Angela replied. It sounded like she was smiling.

"Mr. Masen?" Angela asked, peeking around Ben. "Did you need something from me?"

Edward smiled. "No, Angela. That will be all."

She blushed profusely as she realized that it had been a set-up. She nodded, and looked up at Ben one more time before turning to leave the office.

Ben stood and watched her go for a moment before whirling back to face Edward.

"You asshole," Ben accused, his smile betraying his façade.

Edward shrugged.

"I've been told," he answered, flipping idly through the briefs on his desks.

Ben sat down and reveled in his victory for a moment.

"She's amazing," he murmured, sounding half unconscious.

Edward glanced up at his friend and chuckled at the infatuation painted on his face. He only hoped that they wouldn't break up and render Angela an angry mess. Angela didn't seem like the type to become unpredictable because of her love life, but then again, women were unpredictable. It was best to stay away from them completely.

"Who are you going with?" Ben asked.

Edward resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"You sound like an 8th grader going to prom," he chided, turning back to his paperwork.

Ben let out a sound of annoyance.

"You set me up, I set you up too - that's how it works."

Edward opened his mouth to answer, when his door opened again, and Angela poked her head in.

"Mr. Masen, you have a guest."

She stepped aside to reveal the beauty from the day before. She was dressed in a deep burgundy dress today, with a simple string of pearls around her neck. Her hair was in an intricate bun, and Edward immediately wished her hair was down and free. She looked much more like his beauty when it was down.

She was wearing sleek, nude pumps with red soles, and Edward felt lust pump through his veins as if he were a 15 year old horny teenager again, barely able to control himself. He could imagine those pale, smooth shapely legs wrapped around his waist, crossed at the ankle, her feet still covered in those lovely shoes as he...

He adjusted himself in what he hoped was a discreet way, and tried not to get lost in her deep, chocolate colored eyes when he addressed her.

"Yes?" he asked, glad that he had managed to keep a cool quality to his tone despite the heat that threatened to overcome him.

She bit her lip, sending another wave of heat to his groin. She was perfect, he almost couldn't control himself.

"Mr. Addams wants you to have these," she said, stepping forward lightly to place a small stack of papers on his desk. "They're an accumulation of the past three month's fiscal analysis," she continued. "There is also a policy debrief there that you should look over at your earliest convenience."

Her voice was soft in politeness, but strong. She had a frailty about her that was deceiving. She was a paradox, a compilation of antitheses wrapped up in pretty dresses and fuck-me shoes. He barely heard her over the blood pounding heavily in his ears.

"Is that all?"

She looked momentarily taken a back, but she bit her lip again and nodded. She hesitated for a moment, then turned and walked out, offering Edward a view of her firm and round derriere. What could only be described as lust hit him afresh, and he wished he had easy access to a very, very, cold shower.

Ben let out a low whistle as soon as she was out of earshot. Edward had forgotten he was even in the room.

"Don't do that," Edward reprimanded sharply. He was a possessive man, but now he was being stupid. She wasn't even his. Surely, she belonged to some other man – one more worthy of her than Edward.

Ben rose an eyebrow and let out a soft 'huh'.

"What the hell?" he asked. "You're an asshole to her, and I can't appreciate her ass? You're insane."

Edward shrugged noncommittally, and tried to focus again on his paper work, but her soft voice teased him. It sounded like a melody - a lullaby.

Ben was silent for a moment, and then a slow grin spread on his face.

"Why don't you take _her_ to the gala? She's definitely going to be the hottest date there. And after that you can get some..." Ben trailed off, wiggling his eyebrows.

Edward rolled his eyes. For some odd reason that wasn't exactly what he wanted from his beauty. He wanted something else - but he couldn't quite pinpoint exactly what.

"I can't take her to the gala," Edward said. The more he talked about this stupid affair, the more disney it sounded, and the more he hated it.

"Why not?" Ben asked. "Oh, wait, right, you're an asshole. She probably wouldn't say yes after the way you treated her."

Edward narrowed his eyes.

"I wasn't an asshole to her."

Ben laughed.

"Yeah, right," he replied. "'Yes? Is that all?'" he mimicked, taking on a strict face and a sharp posture. "You might as well have thrown her out of here. I know for sure I would've torn you a new one."

Was Ben right? Had he been that cold to his beauty?

"Shut up," he muttered, resisting the urge to fling something at Ben's head.

"I'm only saying," Ben replied. "It would shut your dad up. Plus she's gorgeous, so no harm there."

Edward contemplated it for a moment.

"I don't even know her name," he said idly, not addressing Ben in particular.

Ben scoffed.

"Are you joking?" he asked. "You're the CEO of this place and you can't find out an employee's name? You've lost your edge. Call me when your company is going down in flames - maybe I'll buy it off of you."

This time Edward did fling something at Ben's head.

**III.**

It was six-thirty when Edward finally left the office. Mergers and briefs and policies and proposals fluttered before his eyelids and all he really wanted to do was go home, eat something, and go to sleep. But alas, the gala was in three hours, and he still had not found a date. He pulled at his hair in frustration, Carlisle was going to be livid, and his life was going to be hell for the next few months. He should've never come back.

He strode through the turnstiles, and walked out into the crisp October air. The sun was setting, and his driver had not yet arrived. He glanced at his watch, wondering idly where his reliable driver was.

Someone bumped into him from behind, and he whirled around, holding his arms out to steady the small person. He caught a faint whiff of vanilla, and it brought him memories of warmth and comfort. He held the person gently, for a moment, and then steadied her. He was surprised when he found himself looking down into the face of his beauty. He was without words for a moment.

She was wearing an ivory colored coat over her dress, and her cheeks and nose had taken on a slightly pink color with the crispness of the wind. She quickly stepped away from him, and apologized profusely, dropping her eyes. Acting on an accord other than his own, he took a step closer to her.

She looked up in surprise, and suddenly, Edward was warm despite the cold around them.

From behind him, he heard the soft honk of his driver letting him know that his car had arrived.

"It's getting late," he said, his words coming out with more coldness than he had intended. "My driver will drop you off."

Before she had the chance to refuse, he stepped away from her, and opened the car door. She hesitated for a moment, looking apprehensive.

"It's freezing," he said, coaxing her to enter the car. "The sun will be gone in a few minutes, too."

With a sigh of reluctance, she entered the car, and Edward slid in beside her.

"Where do you live?" Edward asked, his voice still cold and sharp. She gave him a sideways look before addressing the driver.

Moments later, they were in front of her apartment. She opened the door, and got out, leaning in before she closed it.

"Thank you." She said curtly, as if making some kind of point. Then she closed the door with more force than necessary.

Edward rolled down the window.

"There's a company gala tonight," he called, stopping her in her tracks. She turned to face him.

"So?" she asked.

"So I'll pick you up at eight."

Displeasure marred her features, but there was nothing she could do to make her face any less beautiful.

"I have other plans," she said firmly.

"Think of this as an extension of work," Edward quickly shot back. "I'm your boss, and I'm telling you that I'll pick you up at eight."

Edward rolled his window up before she could answer. His driver pulled away from the curb quickly, and Edward hoped desperately that she would be there when he came to pick her up.

He knew his way of asking her was uncouth, but there was something about her that robbed him of his senses. Usually, he would turn the charm up high, but she was disarming. He pulled at his hair in frustration.

Ben was right. He was an asshole.

* * *

**Et, voilà! Edward came out, and decided he wanted to tell his story. I hope the change in POV wasn't too confusing. I don't really like heading off chapters with "EPOV" or "BPOV" but I do try my best to make the change as obvious as humanly possible. Let me know what you all think! Bisous.**

**Read, Review, Repeat! **


	4. Skeptically Consent

**Chapter 4. Chugging quite along here, aren't we? Choo, choo! All** **aboaaaard!**

Disclaimer: Not mine, not even a little bit, not even a tiny bit, not at all.

* * *

**Skeptically Consent**

**I.**

Edward was in front of his beauty's house before eight. Anticipation thudded loudly in his ears. Would she be ready? Would she come?

His driver, a gentle middle aged man named Peter, chuckled in the front.

"I've never see you so nervous," he joked.

Edward shrugged, and stopped jiggling his leg. He checked his watch repeatedly.

Finally, the hour came. Edward took a breath, grasped the handle, and exited the car, trying to exude an air of nonchalance. He stepped into the lobby of the building, and walked a determined line towards the concierge.

"Good evening," the man greeted warmly, tipping his hat to Edward. "How may I help you today?"

Edward smiled.

"I'm here to pick up -"

At that moment, a soft ding rang out behind him and the elevator doors opened. For a moment it seemed like the whole world paused to admire the woman who was now stepping carefully out of the elevator.

She wore a long, black strapless gown that fitted her delightfully. The dress had a plunging neckline that displayed a bright diamond necklace that looked as if it were dripping off of her. There was a tall slit on the right side of her dress, taunting him with a tantalizing peek of her endless, smooth, pale legs as she approached him. She was wearing nude colored heels again, though this time, the toe was pointed.

He lifted his gaze - her mahogany tresses were pinned up in a bun more intricate and extravagant than the one she had sported this morning. There were dew dropped shaped diamonds that made her look like the stars from the sky had come down to kiss her. She wore small, bright studs in her ears. There was something dark around her eyes that made those chocolate pools of expression look even brighter and more beautiful, if that were possible. Her cheeks heated up in a warm blush that kissed her fair, smooth skin. She was breathtaking.

Edward cleared his throat as he realized that he had been staring for longer than was appropriate. He held out his arm to her, and she took it wordlessly, clutching a small nude colored purse in her other hand.

Edward could barely think straight as he led her to the car, and waited for her to be comfortably seated before he entered in beside her. He heard himself asking Peter to turn the heat up, but it was almost as if he were outside of himself. Blood rushed past his ears, and heat licked at his spine. His arousal was evident, and he turned away from her so she wouldn't see it. She smelled divine, of something elegant and warm. Her smell enveloped him, and he had to close his eyes and swallow to keep from losing his cool. He clenched his jaw, determined to keep himself under control.

He had to have her. If it was the last thing he did, he absolutely had to have her. He would fuck her good and long and satiate himself and then he would be over this absurd crush. He felt weak at the knees, like an 8th grade boy who held a girl's hand for the first time, and he hated it. No one should have the ability to make him feel this vulnerable. Never again, he swore to himself. Never again would a woman worm her way past his defenses and completely destroy him. He had to fuck her, and then maintain his distance to protect himself - so that was what he was going to do.

A small voice nagged at the back of his mind that he had never reacted to any other woman this way. He told that voice to shut up.

**II.**

The gala was an extraordinarily excessive affair. There were paparazzi snapping a shot of every action he took as he led his beauty down the carpet and into the event. He could tell she was nervous and uncomfortable, but there was nothing he could do for that.

She walked stiffly beside him, in stony silence. Before he could dwell on it, however, Ben approached them and clapped him on the back.

"I see you grew a pair," he whispered, chuckling.

"Where's Angela?" Edward asked, pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"She had to step into the ladies room," Ben answered, an eyebrow risen in question.

Edward shrugged, and continued on, leading his beauty by the small of her back.

His beauty remained silent as he greeted person after person. There were dignitaries and ambassadors. A famous football player and a basketball player had joined in the mix as well. CEOs and CFOs of other companies mixed and mingled amongst their competitors, each offering Edward a firm handshake and a hearty 'welcome back.'

Edward, however couldn't focus on the pleasantries as he grew more and more aware of his beauty's increasing discomfort. True, she didn't know anyone here, but it couldn't have been that bad. Could it?

Carlisle approached with Esme in tow.

"Esme," Edward greeted warmly. "You look gorgeous."

And she did. She was wearing an ivory dress. The top part was lacy, and the bottom fell into a pool at her feet. She looked young and happy and radiant. Edward was glad to see his mother in such high spirits.

She kissed his cheeks.

"I've missed you so much, dear," she said, squeezing his forearms, her eyes twinkling. "When will you come visit us for dinner?"

"Soon," Edward promised noncommittally. He'd sooner chop an arm off than step foot back into that house. But Esme would never know that.

"And who's your date?" Esme cooed, turning her attention to the brunette by Edward's side.

His beauty smiled radiantly at his mom, and something within him warmed and melted. He tore his eyes away from her. He would need an incredibly long, cold, shower if he kept watching.

"I'm glad you found yourself a date," Carlisle said, stepping forward. His lips smiled, but his eyes were hard.

Edward nodded curtly.

"I am too."

"Have you given any thought to a marriage proposal?"

"This is not the time, or the place," Edward said quietly, trying hard to mask the anger that threatened to spill into his speech.

"Emmett has already begun taking the right steps to come into his inheritance. You need to begin doing the same thing."

"You're insane," Edward hissed. "You've controlled all parts of my life, and now you want to tell me when to get married?"

Carlisle turned cold eyes to his son.

"I made you who you are," he replied darkly, his tone low. "That little vacation you took? I made that possible. Don't think for a second that you are capable of surviving without me."

Edward glared at Carlisle, hatred choking his words.

"You haven't done anything for me," he hissed, trying to keep from making a scene. "You don't know anything about me."

Carlisle let out a short laugh. "Should I care about you? Should I sit down and take the time to get to know you? Would you like to cuddle afterwards?" he spat. "I don't need to know you to know that you _will_ obey me."

He gave Edward a parting, hard look, and stepped away. With a soft grasp on Esme's arm, he led her away, not looking back once.

Edward stood stock still, clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to abate his anger. Rage nearly blinded him, but underneath his ire was a deep sorrow.

"Are you alright?"

It was his beauty. She had wandered back to him, and looked up at him now with her soft, concerned, brown eyes. He wished for a moment that he was 8 years old again, so he could hug her and cry and fall asleep at her bosom.

He tore his eyes away from her, and set his jaw.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, taking a gentle grasp of her elbow to lead her towards the tables. Even in his anger, he handled her as he would a delicate porcelain. He could never hurt his beauty.

**III.**

The food had been served, and he had made polite conversation with the people seated at his table for a while before he realized that he had not said a word to his beauty all night.

"Where are you from?" he asked, turning his eyes to her. Her eyes widened with surprise, and a soft blush crept up her cheeks as she looked away. Interesting.

"Forks, Washington," she said in a voice that was private and gentle. A shiver coursed through his body. He could listen to her speak forever.

"When did you move here?" he prodded, desperate to hear her speak again. Her voice made his fingers itch to play the piano again - an activity he had quit years ago.

"Three days ago," she answered, finally turning her gaze to him.

"Why?"

A soft smile curved her lips.

"It was a small town. I wanted to get lost and be on my own for a while. What about you?"

She was a gentle soul, Edward could hear it in her speech. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her from all of the evils in the world.

No!

He sharply reprimanded himself for thinking that way. He couldn't let this small woman worm her way into his life, only to leave it in ashes. Never again.

"I was here and there," he replied slowly. "My mom begged me to come back to New York, so I finally did."

"Was that her we met before?"

Edward nodded.

"She seems like a very nice woman."

Edward smiled.

"She is," he said. "She's full of life and energy. She's great."

"What about your father?"

Edward frowned, and his beauty opened her mouth to backtrack. She was interrupted by someone picking up the microphone on stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a young man with jet black hair boomed. It was Jacob Black, the son of Billy Black, CEO and Founder of a very profitable stock business on the west coast. "Thank you for joining us all here tonight in celebration of the merging of three companies, the hard work of our employees, and the return of a special young man, Edward Masen."

The room filled with polite applause, as people turned their eyes to Edward's table. Edward smiled and lifted his hand in thanks. The applause died down, and Jacob drew the microphone to his lips again.

"In honor of these special occasions, we have several guest speakers, followed by entertainment. We ask you to please enjoy the rest of the night, and give a warm welcome to our first speaker, Tanya Denali!"

Tanya.

Edward didn't hear the applause that filled the room, as his blood ran cold. He watched as the curvy, busty blonde sashayed her way up the stairs and onto the stage. She kissed Jacob, and said something to him, a bright smile on her face. She was wearing a fire-engine red dress that had sleeves that clung to her arm just below her shoulders. Her blonde hair fell in large curls around her face. She was, as usual, stunning.

But instead of the warmth that would have accompanied that realization, a cold, dead feeling pooled in the bottom of his stomach. His vision waned as the scent of honeysuckle wafted into his nostrils. He wanted to vomit. Cold sweat began to dot his brow, and he tried his best to maintain his composure.

"...And I want to warmly welcome back my very, very good friend, Edward Masen," she said, turning her piercing gaze to him.

He hadn't heard a word that she had said, but the very moment that his name left her lips, the edges of his vision darkened, and it felt like he was being choked. He couldn't force his lungs to take another breath of air. He wanted to scream, he wanted to escape.

He pushed his chair back with a loud screech, and ignoring the stares of the people behind him, immediately marched towards an exit sign. He pushed open the double doors, and was granted entrance to a small, dark, back hallway.

He leaned his forehead against the wall. There was a cool breeze coming somewhere from his left. His stomach still rumbled, but he knew he wasn't going to throw up anymore. He focused on breathing. He needed to get himself under control.

In.  
Out.  
In.  
Out.

He clenched his fist, his heart still beating wildly.

"Edward?" a gentle voice him.

He looked up as his beauty approached him as if approaching a wild, scared animal.

"Edward," she repeated. She opened her mouth to say something else, but he grabbed her shoulders and kissed her hard.

She was motionless for a moment. He moved his hands up to gently cup her face, and nibbled softly on her lower lip. Suddenly, she came to life, lifting her hands and running them through his hair, tugging gently and massaging his scalp.

He moaned, her actions spurring his arousal. Waves of heat tore through him and into his groin as he dropped his hands from her face to her waist. He maneuvered her so that she was pressed between him, and the wall. He lifted one hand again into her hair, freeing it from its trap. He smiled, pleased with himself, as all of the pins fell to the floor with a soft tinkling sound, and her hair cascaded down around her.

He nibbled again on her plump lips, begging for entrance. She granted it to him easily, tangling her tongue with his in a heated dance. Every stroke ignited passion and heat. He couldn't control himself as he ground himself into her, desperate for her to know how much he wanted her. He lifted her right leg, thankful for the slit that was there, and aligned himself with her core, pulling gently on her hair to angle her mouth so she was more open to him.

He ground against her once, and she let out a breathless whimper. He needed to hear that again. So he did it again.

He pulled reluctantly away from her lips and kissed a trail down her neck, his hips moving on their own accord. She pulled at his hair, her mouth slightly open in pleasure. He growled and claimed her lips again, desperate for every part of her. He needed to forget Tanya and lose himself in his beauty. In her.

...What was her name again?

"Your name," Edward whispered into her ear, as he continued his ministrations. "What is it?"

His beauty froze, and before he realized what had happened, she was out of his grasp.

"You don't know my name?" she asked softly. Her face was expressionless, but she couldn't keep the horror out of her eyes.

Edward didn't answer. He stared helplessly, hoping that at that moment her name would come to him. But it didn't. How had he forgotten to ask her earlier?

"Of course you don't," she said in a voice that was barely audible. Her eyes were filled with tears, and a drop fell gently onto her cheek. She brushed it away with delicate fingers.

She laughed a humorless laugh.

"Small town girl, right?" she said in a watery voice. "Take advantage of her, and then disappear back into your luxurious life?"

Words refused to form in Edward's throat.

"I-" he attempted, but he didn't know what to say. He wanted to apologize. He wished desperately he could reverse time and ask her what her name was when she had first walked into his office. Or when he had first saw her by the elevator. He wished to explain to her that he didn't think of asking for her name, because she was already his beauty. But none of the words materialized?

"Why did you even ask me to come with you?" She asked again, pain barbing her words. The tears dripped down her cheeks too quickly for her to wipe them all away.

He took a step forward, his arms outstretched. She backed away from him. He let his arms fall to his sides, uselessly.

"Did you think you'd dazzle me with all of this," she asked, making a sweeping motion with her arm. "And then I'd let you fuck me? Then you could disappear and tell all of your rich friends how you had your way with a pathetic small-town girl?"

Her words grew more and more choked, and as they left her lips, Edward cringed. He had hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her. He yearned to comfort her. He suddenly found his words, but it was too late.

"No! I-" he attempted, taking another step forward.

"Stop," she said a watery voice, taking a step back. "Just, stop."

She turned then, and began walking further down the corridor.

"Wait!" Edward called after her. He wanted to chase her, but his feet were lead. What would he even say if he caught up to her? Sorry I molested you in a back hallway before knowing even the most basic thing about you? He stood in the corridor until the soft clicks of her heels disappeared. He ran a hand through his hair, and pulled at it. He wanted to punch something.

He was a complete failure.

* * *

**Oh, my... Poor Isabella? Poor Edward? Poor both of them? Who do you feel worse for, and why?**

**Read, Review, Repeat! Bisous.**


	5. Unmistakably Fill

**Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, I now present to you: -drumroll- CHAPTER. 5.**

Disclaimer: I own a few picture frames, an air purifier and a pretty cool lamp - but not these characters.

* * *

**Unmistakably Fill**

**I.**

"And then he asked you for your name?!"

Isabella was sure that Alice Brandon's shriek could be heard around the world.

"Alice, this is the fifth time you've said that," Isabella chided gently, closing her lips around an extra salty, extra buttery piece of popcorn.

"Tell me again," Alice said, making herself more comfortable in her position on the floor.

They were surrounded with pillows and blankets. Alice had heard Isabella's quiet story the next morning, and had taken it upon herself to barge into Isabella's apartment that night, armed with several romantic comedies, an action movie, and, what she called her 'special weapon,' _Magic Mike_. The two women had ordered a pie of pizza, made a batch of brownies, popped several bags of popcorn, and were now lying on Isabella's floor in front of her television. Alice had proven herself to be a wonderful companion. In fact, she was the closest thing Isabella had to a best friend that wasn't Jasper since 'the incident.' Isabella adored her, but the woman had a penchant for making her feel fatigued._  
_

Isabella held up two DVD cases.

"C'mon, Alice, you've heard the story five times already. 27 Dresses or How to Lose a Man in 10 Days?"

Alice shook her head.

"Isabella, one last time, and I'll pick a movie, I swear."

Isabella sighed, and flopped back against the couch, closing her eyes to begin her story again.

"So he drove me home, and he told me that I was going to the gala with him - which you already knew, since you helped me get ready..." Isabella opened one eye and gave her friend an accusing look.

Alice beamed.

"Was he stunned or was he stunned?"

Isabella felt heat rise in her cheeks as she remembered the look he had given her. He had stared with a hot hunger in his eyes that Isabella had never seen before. It made her feel desirable, and it had caused a hot fire to pool in her stomach. She had to remind herself that he was her boss, and any relationship between them would have been inappropriate, and undoubtedly forbidden.

"He liked my outfit, I guess," Isabella acquiesced with a sigh. "We got into his car, and he didn't talk to me the entire time. We got out, and went into the gala. I didn't know anyone there, blah blah blah. I met his parents - his mom is really sweet - and then we sat down to eat. Then a woman named Tanya stood up to spoke, Edward freaked out, I followed him, we..."

Isabella trailed off.

"Dry humped like two horny teenagers in a back staircase?" Alice offered innocently.

Isabella flushed, and cleared her throat.

"Then he stopped and asked me what my name was. So I left."

"What an asshole!" Alice cried, throwing her hands up in frustration. "He's such a pompous, entitled, jerk. You should've stomped on his foot or something."

Isabella bit her lip, and held up the DVD cases again. Alice pointed at 27 Dresses, and Isabella popped it into her DVD player.

The truth of the matter was that what she and Edward had done in the back corridor had felt like more than 'two horny teenagers dry humping in a back staircase.' There had been an undercurrent of electricity that had sparked sharply between them. There was an undeniable attraction there that Isabella couldn't deny. She hoped he had felt it too. Why else would he have grabbed her the way he did?Her mind wandered back to that night. She had felt so small and insignificant and out of place. First, Edward had seemed revolted and annoyed by her in the car. He didn't speak to her at all, ignoring her in favor of silence or greeting strangers.

Then she had met his mother. Esme had been kind, asking her questions about herself, and making a remark about how she loved the spark in her son's eye that had been missing for years. She then attributed it to Isabella's presence, and winked at her before being led somewhere else by Carlisle.

She had returned to Edward's side, and for the first time since she met him, his cold demeanor had lifted, revealing eyes that flashed with anger. But underneath the anger, Isabella could sense a hurt, a sorrow that was as evident as his pain. She had wanted to wrap her arms around him, and comfort him, but as quickly as she had seen his emotions, he shut her down, and the cold, impenetrable mask fell back into place.

When he had turned to speak to her at the dining table, his eyes had been warm, friendly, and inquisitive. Her heart had leapt at the sound of his voice, all of her resentment towards him for dragging her along to this affair where she obviously didn't belong had dissipated. Yet, while they were having a polite conversation, Isabella couldn't help but be drawn in by the depth and intensity of his green eyes. His pink lips that moved gently over his strong, white teeth had begged for her to nibble on them. His jaw was strong and square, and Isabella was sure that no man should be allowed to possess a jaw that inspired such dirty thoughts in her. She hadn't missed the way other women's eyes had lingered on Edward as he walked. His gait was confidence, exuding power and control. He, however, seemed oblivious to the attention he garnered whenever he moved, and Isabella had felt a deep, warm pleasure at being the sole focus of his attention in that moment.

Then a gorgeous woman named Tanya had come up to speak, and had made a direct reference to Edward. Isabella's spirits had fallen when she did. Of course a woman so beautiful as Tanya knew a man as handsome as Edward. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that they would be the perfect couple. They moved in the same social circle, and they were both out of reach and gorgeous. She had been drawn out of her thoughts at the sound of Edward's chair scraping back. Her eyes had snapped to him, and he had been as pale as a sheet. He looked like he was going to throw up, and when he walked towards one of the exit signs, his gait had been stiff and defeated. It was so uncharacteristic of him, that she had no choice but to follow.

She had been so surprised when he had grabbed her in the corridor. Heat had licked down her spine and curled her toes simply from his touch. After that, everything had been a whirlwind of fire and heat and gentle touches that inspired flames of passion. His hand had tangled in his hair, and he had pressed himself so deliciously against her core. The world around them was a stormy sea, and he was her lifeboat. She had clung to him desperately, running her hands through those silky coppery strands of hair. His lips were magic, robbing her of breath and coherent thought. His mouth had been hot, stroking flame and passion and desire with every flick and expert maneuver. She had wanted - needed - him closer, and closer still. The thin fabric of her dress was too large of a barrier between them. Flames crept cross her skin, igniting in every spot her his fingers touched. He had worked her over so expertly, inspiring feelings and desires she had never, ever felt before.

And then, like a cold bucket of water tipped over her head, he asked her what her name was.

She had been, and still was, so offended. She had left, stiff-backed, and walking further and further into the corridor, desperately hoping that the door that would eject her from the building was close. She pushed the first door she came upon, and found herself in a back alleyway of some sort. Picking her way delicately through the trash, she had hailed a cab, and had flopped directly onto her bed when she arrived at her apartment, crying herself to sleep.

"Isabella," Alice said, dragging Isabella out of her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"You wanna do some stalking?" Alice asked mischievously, rubbing her hands together in a way that could only be described as comical.

Isabella laughed.

"That sounds illegal, and I don't want to get sent back to Forks, so I'll pass."

Alice hit her shoulder.

"C'mon, you're no fun! It's not _actual_ stalking. It's cyberstalking. Completely legal."

Isabella rose an eyebrow.

"Alice, no. I'm not stalking anyone. That's wrong, and evil and it should be punished. It only leads to bad things. No." Isabella couldn't keep the heat out of her speech, but she hoped Alice wouldn't notice how firmly against cyberstalking she was. She really, _really_didn't want to talk about that.

Alice let out a sigh of annoyance.

"I didn't mean anything malicious," she said, grabbing her laptop. "I just wanted to google him and see what came up. Why do you think he had such a strong reaction to Tanya?"

Isabella shrugged, fighting to keep in the sigh of relief that bubbled up when Alice had completely mistaken Isabella's fervent refusal as goody-two shoes behavior instead of a personal issue.

"I don't know," Isabella said, turning her eyes back to the movie. "Maybe he had a bad reaction to the food, and not to Tanya."

"Maybe," Alice answered, not sounding convinced.

Isabella's phone rang, and she was glad. She didn't want to think about Edward Masen anymore.

"Hello?"

"Baby girl." It was Jasper. She hadn't heard from him since she had landed, which, she guessed, was her fault.

"Oh Jazz," she sighed, a mixture of contentment and remorse. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to call you! So much has been happening, I swear I didn't forget about you."

Alice rose an eyebrow, but Isabella ignored her. Jasper laughed on the other end.

"That's alright baby girl. How's everything?"

Isabella dropped her head onto her knees and sighed, fighting tears that threatened to well up again. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and tried to put on a strong, steady voice for her best friend.

"Everything's going great," she replied weakly.

"Doesn't sound quite like it," Jasper said softly, his drawl wrapping around her like a familiar blanket.

"I just miss Forks a bit, that's all," she replied. They both knew her statement couldn't be further from the truth.

"Well how about I take a little voyage to NYC?" Jasper suddenly suggested. "I've been meaning to get in touch with a lawyer down there named James -" some papers shuffled in the background. "James Cophagen? Anyway, I could stay with you if you want, and I'd kill two birds with one stone."

Isabella laughed.

"That would be great," she replied softly. "I've got a spare room, so there'll be plenty of space for you."

"Alright, it's settled then," Jasper stated firmly. "I'll see you in about two weeks. Think you can handle a few more days without me?"

If he had been in the room, Isabella would have hit him playfully. She snorted instead.

"Bye, Jazz," she said pointedly. His laughter wafted over the phone, leaving Isabella with no choice but to smile.

"I love you, baby girl," he said when his laughter had subsided.

"You already know I feel the same," Isabella answered.

The moment Isabella hung up, Alice turned to her, with her laptop screen boasting a picture of Jasper standing in Isabella's old backyard with a red cup in one hand. His other arm was slung around Isabella's shoulders, their fingers intertwined. They both had huge sloppy grins on their faces. It was night time, but the flash of the camera had illuminated their faces, giving the whole picture a distinctly party-like, happy mood.

"Is this Jasper?" Alice demanded, almost as if interrogating her friend. Isabella laughed and held her hands up in surrender.

"Yes, ma'am!" She replied, and Alice narrowed her eyes at her before turning back to the screen.

"He's _hot_," Alice said, looking completely infatuated with a man she didn't know outside of a picture and a one-sided phone conversation.

"Sure is," Isabella replied, leaning back and taking a small bite of one of the remaining brownies.

"So not fair," Alice whined, flipping through more pictures on Jasper's profile. "How are you affiliated with all of the hot guys? I want a hot guy." Alice paused for a moment, as if something just dawned on her. She whipped her attention back to Isabella. "Is he your boyfriend?" she asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

Isabella chuckled.

"No," she replied. "He's my best friend." Alice studied her for a moment, and Isabella held up three fingers. "Girl's Scout Honor," she said gravely. Alice grinned, and satisfied that Isabella wasn't lying, resumed looking through Jasper's pictures.

"What does he do?" Alice asked, trying to keep the interest out of her voice. Isabella smiled.

"He passed the bar exam a few months ago, and now he's looking for a firm that'll take him. Forks is pretty small, though, so chances are that he'll have to leave." Isabella bit her lip.

That was part of the reason why she had left Forks. If she had stayed, Jasper would've never left her side. He would've sacrificed his dream for her, and she couldn't let him do that again.

"So he's smart?" Alice asked distractedly.

"As a whip," Isabella confirmed.

There were a few more moments of silence between them before Alice landed on a picture of Jasper hugging Isabella tightly, planting a sloppy kiss on her cheek. Isabella's eyes were squeezed shut, and her smile was wide and happy. She had been screaming and laughing, and there was whipped cream and bits of cake on her nose and smudged on her forehead. She couldn't remember what it felt like to be that happy.

"Explain," Alice demanded, and Isabella couldn't help but laugh.

"Alice, are you attracted to my friend?" she asked in a mock serious tone. Alice had the decency to look abashed.

"Maybe," she answered slowly.

Isabella grinned.

"That picture was taken at my 18th birthday party. It was a surprise party. I think the person taking the picture had said to 'kiss the birthday girl' or something stupid like that."

Alice hummed, and continued going through the album. When she ran out of pictures, she sighed happily and closed her laptop.

"Your best friend, my dear Isabella, is a beautiful, beautiful man," she cooed.

Isabella laughed, a habit that was becoming common around Alice.

"You can tell him that when you meet him next week."

Alice shot up.

"What?" she asked. Isabella grinned brightly.

"Jasper is coming up to visit in two weeks. He's staying here, so I'm sure you two will bump into each other at least once or twice."

A mischievous smile made its way onto Alice's face. Isabella had the feeling that Alice and Jasper would "bump into" each other more than once or twice. She smiled to herself. This was good for Jasper; maybe he and Alice would hit it off.

Moving to NYC had been the right decision after all.

**II.**

"Isabella, could you please come in here?"

Garrett Addams stood in the door of his office, his dark brown gaze focused on Isabella. He was conventionally attractive, with a well trimmed facial hair that made him look gentle and more approachable. He wore dark-rimmed eye glasses that Isabella supposed served for the double effect of making him look intelligent, and helping him read the fine print he worked with everyday. He was tall, and had a big brotherly air about him. Isabella had found herself wondering why she could not be attracted to this warm man, instead of a cold one with green eyes and coppery hair.

Isabella stood and approached him, ignoring the curious gazes that followed her as she entered his office and took a seat. Garrett smiled to the floor and raised a hand.

"Alright everybody," he said in a kind voice. "Nothing to see here, back to work."

He took a seat behind his desk, and pressed a button that made his glass walls turn opaque, effectively blocking them from office view.

"Do you know why I called you in here today, Isabella?

"No, sir," she answered politely. And it was true, she didn't. Other than handing her files, or calling her in to look over a financial analysis, Garrett had never asked her to come into her office, and never before had he barred their activities from view.

Garrett laughed.

"Don't look so nervous," he said gently. "You haven't done anything wrong."

Isabella was silent, waiting for him to continue.

"I called you in here to offer you my congratulations," he said, leaning forward. His eyes twinkled with pride, and Isabella was thoroughly confused.

"Congratulations, sir?" she asked politely.

"Yes, well, over the past week or so, you've contributed so much to this office. Your fiscal analyses are always perfect, your projections are spot on, and your policy revisions got me a bonus at the company meeting yesterday. Your skills are being wasted in your position, and so I've decided," Garrett paused, grinning for dramatic effect. "to promote you!"

A smile erupted on Isabella's face, and she clasped her hands together to keep from reaching over the desk and hugging her boss.

"Oh! Oh my," she cried. "Thank you! Thank you so much."

A rush of pride brought warmth to her cheeks. This was the feeling that she had moved here for. The feeling of success and accomplishment that came with putting your own hands to something and doing it right. No one could rob her of her joy, she had been promoted and not because someone pitied her, or feared her, but because she had excelled and she had deserved it.

"You don't know how much this means to me," Isabella said, wiping tears of joy from the corner of her eyes.

Garrett looked extremely pleased.

"I don't know how happy you'll be when you realize how much work your new position entails. As a Junior Financial Analyzer, you get a bigger desk because there's more work."

Isabella smiled so hard, her cheeks hurt.

"I'll work hard," she promised.

"That's what I like to hear," Garrett replied, leaning back. "Now, every Wednesday, there is a company meeting and a board presentation. I'll expect you to go with me to these meetings along with a portfolio of your work. No excuses."

Isabella nodded.

"Not a problem," she assured him.

Garrett smiled, and offered her his hand. Isabella shook it gratefully.

"Now go on," he said as he stood up and pressed another button that returned the walls to glass. "Kate will show you where your new desk is."

* * *

**Can I get a little ****hooray for our young Isabella? What do you think _the incident_ was? I'd love to hear your opinions, your praises, your criticisms, your guesses and anything else you might want to share with me!**

**Read, Review, Repeat! Bisous :***


	6. Inadvertently Encounter

**Why was 6 afraid of 7? Cause 7, 8, 9! Teehee.**

Disclaimer: I can not be held accountable for what I do with these characters that I do not own...

* * *

**Inadvertently Encounter**

**I.**

It was Wednesday. Isabella tapped her pen nervously on her new oak desk. She had been moved into an office of her own as a result of her promotion. The office was only slightly bigger than her cubicle, she only had space for her desk, a file cabinet and an uncomfortable looking chair. But what mattered was that she had a door to close, a fatter paycheck, and a plaque outside of her office that read: 'Isabella M. Swan, Junior Financial Analyst.'

She had been giddy when she first stepped into her new office, carrying a very small box filled with the items that she had brought to her cubicle when she had first began working. Now, the giddiness was gone, and was replaced with giant amazon butterflies of nervousness that fluttered in her stomach. The other financial analysts had shared some horror stories with her about all that could do wrong, but assured her that she would be fine. She doubted it. She bit her lip and fiddled with the thin, clear headband that she had worn to keep her hair away from her face. Someone knocked on her door.

"Come in," she called. She glanced at her intercom briefly before turning her eyes to the door. It was a red-haired woman named Victoria.

"Isabella," she said, smiling. Her voice was sickly sweet, but she was a kind person, so Isabella over looked it. "I just wanted to wish you good luck. Dinner on me later - you know, in celebration of your first meeting?"

Isabella smiled, releasing her lip from between her teeth.

"That sounds great, Victoria."

"I know you're probably nervous, so I'll leave you to prepare. I'll be down the hall if you need anything," Victoria called before disappearing curtly. She was a very efficient woman, she didn't always have time for hellos or goodbyes. She was a whirlwind of energy and motion, and it was easy to get caught up in it. She had met the woman two days ago, when she first moved into her new office. Isabella had been struck immediately by the woman's vibrant green eyes and bright red hair. Victoria was not what most people would call an attractive woman - her nose was crooked, and a little too big, and she had gaps in her teeth, but she had a charm about her that made it easy to overlook her features. After a few moments in her presence, you didn't notice her features at all. It was easy to be taken with Victoria, and so Isabella hadn't been surprised when she found herself considering the woman a friend.

Her intercom flashed green twice, and Isabella pressed on the 'receive' button.

"Isabella, it's go time." Garrett's voice came over the speaker. He sounded excited and ready to go. The intercom let out a little blip sound, effectively ending the call before Isabella had the chance to answer.

She took a deep breath in through her nose and let it out through her mouth. She would be fine. She had prepared for this for the last two days, and she was ready to do all that she needed to do to make her presentation a success. She dropped her files into the new briefcase Alice had brought her as a gift for her promotion, grabbed a small black USB drive and left her office, closing the door carefully behind her. She took another deep breath, and headed to the elevators.

Oh, how she hoped that she did well.

**II.**

Isabella met Garett on the first floor, and together they took the 13-17 elevators. Garett swiped his company ID card, and hit the button for the 15th floor. The doors opened up into a conference room. In the center of the room, there was a large mahogany table surrounded by twelve large, black chairs. On the far wall was a modern projector and screen set. On the opposite wall was a row of smaller chairs, that were occupied by other junior analysts. Garrett motioned towards the chairs, and Isabella quietly took a seat. Garrett then disappeared into an adjoining room.

Each minute that passed left Isabella feeling more and more nervous. She was sure that she was going to mess up. The room seemed to close in on her, and she closed her eyes to ward off a panic attack. She had been doing so well, she didn't want to relapse now.

"Hey," a gentle voice from her right whispered. Isabella's eyes shot open and her eyes met with a pair of warm brown ones that shone with amusement.

"I'm Kia," the girl said, her voice still quiet. Isabella smiled.

"I'm Isabella."

"Your first time?"

Isabella nodded, and Kia smiled.

"Don't worry, it's no big deal. No one really pays attention to the juniors. You're in finance?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?

Kia grinned.

"You came in with Garett. I'm in policy. But seriously, don't even worry about it. Your presentation will be over before you know it. Like I said, no one really pays attention. You do your spiel, they nod their heads a little bit, and then you sit down."

Isabella smiled, feeling somewhat comforted.

"Thanks," she said gratefully.

Kia grinned, and then turned back to the papers she was reading. A few more minutes passed, and slowly men began trickling into the room. A junior got up and brought more chairs to the larger table to accommodate the people who walked in. A short woman wearing sky high heels caught Isabella's attention. She was talking animatedly with Garrett, moving her hands in a way that suggested that she was reinforcing a point. They approached nearer to Isabella, and the woman took the seat directly in front of her.

"My junior is going to crush yours," she said loud enough for Isabella to hear. Garrett shrugged his shoulders and laughed, as if to say 'We'll see.' _No pressure_.

Everyone seemed to be seated, leaving one seat at the head of the table empty. Isabella wondered idly who that seat was for. At that moment, the elevator dinged quietly, opening to reveal copper hair and green eyes. Isabella's heart thudded so loudly, she was sure everyone in the room could hear it. She shrank back into her seat a little. He didn't see her, giving Isabella the chance to look him over. As usual, he looked delicious. He wore a jet black suit with a pink tie today. He adjusted his cuff links as he walked casually to his seat at the head of the table. His confidence intrigued her, his intensity enticed her. She felt warm all over, just by being in the same room with him. The meeting began, but all Isabella could see was the way his tongue flicked out to wet his lips when he began talking, or the way he unconsciously pulled at his hair when he became frustrated. His movements were smooth and fluid, liquid grace. His face was a cold mask of indifference as he fielded questions and answered them sharply, intelligently, and without hesitation. His eyes burned with intensity and gleamed with knowledge. Suddenly, those eyes turned to her and burned a fiery trail up her body as he surveyed her. Their eyes met, and there was something magnetic about them that kept her from turning away. His eyes burned with intensity and recognition and the heat of some undecipherable emotion. He looked like a predator who had just locked eyes with his prey.

"...Junior Financial Analyst, Isabella Swan."

Isabella tore her eyes away from him to focus on Garrett, who was looking expectantly at her. She could feel the heat of Edward's gaze on her face, and she suddenly felt lightheaded. She licked her dry lips and swallowed, before standing up and walking over to the technician. She handed him her USB, and took out her portfolio, passing her stack of copies around the table. Edward never took her eyes off of her, tracing the curves of her body with his gaze. Every movement she made commanded the attention of his eyes, making her a little giddy with his attention, but even more nervous than she was before. From somewhere beside her, the technician pressed a clicker into her hand. Isabella tried her hardest to ignore Edward, turning her gaze instead to Garrett's warm brown eyes that encouraged her on. She licked her lips, and looked around the room, feeling at ease under every expectant pair of eyes except one.

Deciding that she had already wasted too much time, she clicked the clicker and launched into her presentation. The more she talked, the more at ease she was. She beamed with pleasure as different men around the table looked through appropriate parts of her portfolio and nodded, or agreed with her as she spoke. Even the woman seemed reluctantly impressed by her presentation. She fielded questions well - she had prepared for every possible turn of events and it appeared that she was over prepared. She almost completely forgot about the pair of green eyes at the head of the table, but the intensity of Edward's gaze on her face, and her body's refusal to be anything less than aware of him kept her from disregarding his presence.

In what seemed like a blink of an eye, her presentation was done, and she handed the clicker back to the technician, receiving her USB in return. She headed back to her seat, and Garrett caught her wrist before she sat, tugging her towards him.

"You did an amazing job," he whispered, before releasing her.

Isabella sat down, flushed with pleasure and excitement. She loved her job, and she loved the rush of elation that came along with success. She looked up and inadvertently made eye contact with Edward. His face was a blank, cold mask, but there was a twinge of displeasure that curled his lip. His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but he tore his gaze away too quickly to to be sure.

Isabella suddenly felt bereft. She had been unconsciously looking forward to seeing the usual intensity in his eyes, accompanied by what she hoped would be pleasure or pride. But anger? What could she have possibly done to make him angry?

The rest of the junior analysts presented, and the meeting trudged on, but Isabella didn't notice anything other than the strange, cold, empty feeling that had lodged itself in her stomach. She didn't look Edward's way for the rest of the meeting, keeping her eyes trained on the far wall. She had done well, she didn't deserve anything less than his praise. She bit her lip and fought the burn that began behind her eyes. She would not cry, and she would not quit, _especially _not because of a man.

In that moment, Isabella was glad she had been taking her medication consistently. The headache that she would've otherwise had would've been massive.

**II.**

Everything was going well. Isabella had returned to her office, glowing with pleasure at the praise she had received at the end of the meeting. Garrett had clasped a friendly hand on her shoulder and bestowed her with great, warm compliments. She had even gone out to lunch with Victoria, and managed to return to the office only slightly fatigued - a big improvement from her normal standard.

So, when Garrett had asked Isabella to come to his office, she had went happily, all thoughts of angry green eyes far from her head. Perhaps if she had known what he was going to ask her for, she would have made up an excuse and sent someone else in her stead.

"You want me to do _what_?" Isabella asked, trying to keep the panic out her voice.

Garrett looked up, surprised.

"I want you to drop this binder off at Mr. Masen's apartment. It's not far from here, and there will be a car waiting to pick you up, bring you to his residence, and drop you off home when you leave here. I don't see what the big deal is."

"Mr. Addams," Isabella pleaded. "This is hardly appropriate."

"Isabella," Garrett said, sounding only slightly exasperated. "I would do it myself, I really would, but I've got so much going on, I can't deliver it tonight. All you have to do is ride up in the elevator, put the binder on the front table, and leave. It's not an impossible task."

"Mr. Addams," Isabella began again.

"Isabella," Garrett said firmly. "You'll do it. That's enough."

He turned back to his paperwork, effectively dismissing her. Isabella stood before his desk, speechless, her mouth opening and closing a few times like a fish out of water. Isabella bit her lip as she lifted the large binder from the desk, and picked up the accompanying key. She looked at Garrett one more time. He was focused on his work, Isabella no longer existed for him. Isabella resisted the urge to just leave the binder on his desk and return to her office as if she had never been called in the first place, but she knew that would be childish. And really, it wasn't a daunting task. Edward probably wouldn't even be home. It wasn't like he would sit up and wait for the delivery of this binder. The more Isabella thought about it, the more she realized how irrational she was being.

There was no way this could go wrong.

**III.**

Isabella left the office at exactly 9:30 that evening. As Garrett had said, there was a black car waiting for her just outside of the building. Thirty minutes later, she arrived at a gothic building that overlooked a park on one side. The architecture was beautiful, it looked like a building that would be featured on the back of a post card.

She stepped out of the car and walked into the first floor lobby almost as if she were afraid that if she stepped too hard, she would break something. She walked to the concierge desk, hope filling her chest as she realized that she could just leave the binder with the young man who was on his shift.

"Just bring it right up," he had answered, smiling brightly into Isabella's horrified expression. Isabella had bitten her lip, and then taken the elevator. Her hands shook violently as she inserted the key into the space next to the Penthouse button. She pushed it, and the elevator glided easily up, unconcerned by her desperate desire to turn around and run home.

The doors slid open quietly, and Isabella stepped out softly into the dim foyer. The elevator doors closed behind her, and Isabella was trapped. She walked as quietly as her heels would let her further into the home. It didn't seem like Edward was here.

She spied the front table, and placed the binder on it gently, exhaling a sigh of relief as the job was completed without incident. She had been overreacting. Edward wasn't home. He was probably out with a beautiful woman, like Tanya. Jealousy gripped her firmly at the thought, and she had to tell herself that Edward did not belong with her, and his asking her to the gala didn't mean anything. The fact that he didn't even know her name had made that much evident. Isabella sighed as a sorrow and a longing filled her chest. She was slightly annoyed with herself for feeling this way towards a man that she didn't even know. She bit her lip. She was being ridiculous.

She looked around for a moment, barely making out the furniture in Edward's home. The style didn't seem to be a reflection of Edward's personality. She expected steel and glass and sharp, cold edges, but from what she could make out, the home seemed warm and welcoming. Perhaps someone else had decorated it for him, she thought idly.

"NO!"

A frantic cry tore through the silence, startling Isabella. She barely managed to keep from screaming.

"Stop!"

It was Edward. There was a distinct pain and sorrow to his cries that wrenched Isabella's heart. _Is he in danger?_ Without thinking, she sprung into action, following his cries of anguish. It sounded like he was being tortured.

The door to his bedroom was ajar, and without a second thought, Isabella breezed through it, and then froze.

He was having a nightmare.

His body was strained against the sheet, his muscles taut. He was sweating with exertion, and his face was twisted with agony. He looked like a fallen angel whose wings were being ripped out. Isabella gasped slightly as her eyes made out his body in the dim light. He was well built and firm, and he currently sported the largest erection Isabella had ever seen. She turned to leave him to his demons, it wasn't her place to interfere.

"Please. Please!"

His next cries caught her off guard. His voice sounded as if it were choked with tears as he clawed at himself. She couldn't leave him this way. How many times had she wished that someone would have woken her up out of her nightmares? But what was she to do?

"Please! I-I can't!"

He began to hit himself, viciously, ferociously. Giving in to a greater impulse, she rushed to his side and grabbed his wrists in an attempt to keep him from attacking himself. He was much too strong for her, and in his sleep, he wrenched himself from her grasp, grabbed her, and held her to himself in a vise-like grip. The next thing she knew, he was on top of her, and the only thing separating him from her core was his thin, cotton sheet. He had managed to land himself between her legs, and he grinded himself furiously into her. Above her, his face was twisted in deep pain.

Isabella fought the pleasure that rode over her in waves. Even in his sleep, he was capable of making her feel weak. But he was having a nightmare, and she needed to stop him.

"Edward!" she screamed, fruitlessly trying to escape from his grasp.

"Edward, _wake up!" _

Isabella pushed at his shoulders with all of her strength.

"_Edward!_"

His eyes shot open, emerald green making contact with deep brown. He threw himself off of her, landing across from her with his back pressed against the wall. He was naked, and Isabella reprimanded herself as she forced her eyes to focus on his face. This was not the time to appreciate his body.

His eyes were wild, and his breathing was labored.

"I-Isabella?"

* * *

**How is it possible that a man could look so deliciously good even while having a nightmare?**

**Read, Review, Repeat - it's the circle of life! **


	7. Wearily Endure

**The ants go marching, SEVEN by SEVEN, ****hoorah, hoorah...**

Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story bear no similarity to characters owned by me. Cause they're not mine. Get it?

* * *

**Wearily Endure**

**I.**

Edward had left the office early that day to meet Esme in the city for a small dinner. He had been distracted throughout the whole affair, thinking only of Isabella.

Isabella.

It was a wonderful, elegant name that fit the enigmatic woman perfectly. He had watched, enraptured, as she had delivered her presentation with ease and poise. She was sharp as a tack, well-versed in her area of work, and it was easy to get caught up in her charm and excitement. Her eyes had been bright with joy as she worked the room well, presenting her findings and suggestions in such a way that Edward had ordered them implemented at once. She had not looked at him once her presentation began, and had it not been for the slight blush that was ever present on her cheeks, he would have thought that she had completely forgotten about him. He had been dizzily high off of the emotions he had been feeling at the moment. For a moment he fantasized of her being his - her heart belonging solely and completely to him. A deep well of pride had bubbled up, and it took a lot of effort not to burst into a smile that would make the other company board members suspicious. He had meant to take her aside after her presentation and congratulate her right after apologizing for the mishap at the gala. Anticipation had shivered down his spine, and he couldn't wait to take her into his arms again, to feel her warmth and softness pressed against him...

And then she had leaned close to Garrett. Edward had watched carefully as he whispered something, and she flushed with pleasure. Jealousy and anger tore through him like a knife. Of course she was with Garrett. He was perfect for her - kind, smart, gentle and emotionally and mentally stable - all of the things that Isabella deserved. Things that Edward himself didn't know if he could always be for her. He kept his eyes off of her for the remainder of the meeting, and had deliberately avoided her. He didn't want to spoil her moment of glory and joy that she clearly wanted to spend with Garrett Addams - the love of her life.

Esme had noticed that her son's heart wasn't in the dinner, and with kind eyes, feigned fatigue so he would go home. Edward had collapsed onto his bed, and fallen asleep immediately, bone-tired from the day's events. Then, the nightmares began.

He could never remember them when he woke up, but he knew that it was always the same. He always woke up in a cold sweat, his heart beating wildly, and his sheets tangled around him. Usually, he couldn't fall asleep for the rest of the night, and had to turn on every single light in his apartment. It was childish, but it kept the demons away.

This time, however, things were different. His nightmares set in as usual, but suddenly he was being saved. An angel's soft hands caressed his wrists, and the next thing he knew, his body was pressed to hers. She was soft, and sensual, and smelled of warmth and safety. His nightmare had been temporarily chased away, and he lost himself in his angel, clinging to her desperately. His angel had called his name, spurring him on. He had rolled his hips, seeking to pleasure his angel the only way he knew how. He wished desperately that he could stay in this dream forever. And then his angel's voice had taken on a tinge of panic that he had immediately picked up on. He had felt small hands push against his shoulders, and he realized that he was hurting her. His eyes shot open as he tore himself away from the angel that had saved him.

Then he realized exactly where he was.

"I-Isabella?"

She sat on his bed, disheveled. She was wearing a creme colored skirt and a midnight blue top that looked like the silky sky had wrapped itself around her, highlighting the perfect, oval, paleness of her face. She wore a navy pair of fuck-me heels that looked divine against his bedsheets. Her expression was of a gentle bewilderment, and her hair tumbled down in a chaotic order to complete the vision. She was truly an angel. He didn't think it was possible, but he grew even more aroused. He, with all of his demons, was not worthy of her.

"Edward," she said gently, her voice filling the room and chasing away the remnants of his nightmare. Her eyes dropped, appraising him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lip, and she looked momentarily entranced.

"What are you doing here?" Edward asked as his heartbeat slowed to normal, and he grabbed a convenient towel to wrap around his waist. Not that he didn't mind being appraised and appreciated by his beauty, but being naked in front of your employee - an employee who was in a relationship, no less - was hardly appropriate. Her eyes snapped back up to his face, her cheeks immediately warming in a deep blush.

"I, um, well, I - I came to drop off your binder," she said quietly, averting her eyes.

Edward rose an eyebrow.

"On my bed?"

Isabella flushed again.

"I put it on the table, and I was going to leave when I heard..." Isabella trailed off.

Edward straightened his spine, and let his cold mask fall into place.

"What did you hear?" he asked gruffly, partly curious, and partly to intimidate her. Not a good idea. Isabella rose an eyebrow, and her eyes flashed with annoyance, revealing a core of steel that he had suspected she possessed. She slid off of the bed gracefully, and approached him, the clicking of her heels on the hardwood floor accentuating her words.

"Do _not_ take that tone with me," she said in a low, dangerous voice. Edward was only mildly intimidated, but wildly aroused. "You were having a nightmare. If I hadn't intervened you would've beat yourself to a pulp." She narrowed her eyes, stepping infinitesimally closer to him. "If anything, you should be _thanking_ me."

She held his gaze for a moment longer, never faltering. After a moment, she whirled around and clicked away, disappearing further and further from him with every footstep. As she well should. She was in a relationship with Garrett, and it would be incredibly selfish of Edward to indulge himself in the one thing that sung to his soul. But then again, Edward was a selfish man. _Only for tonight_, he promised himself. He would indulge once in his beauty and then he would leave her alone for the rest of eternity. He just wished, for a moment, to get a night of peace. Just once.

"Wait!" Edward called, spurring into action.

The clicking stopped. Edward stepped timidly out of his bedroom, pulling at his hair with one hand.

"I just wanted to apologize for what happened at the gala. You looked so beautiful and I had to have you and I got carried away. I'm sorry."

Isabella studied him for what seemed like eternity. She lifted her chin up haughtily.

"That's fine," she said casually, turning around to press the elevator button.

"Wait!" Edward called again, desperate to keep her with him that night.

She turned around, expectant.

"Will you...Will you stay over tonight?"

Her expression softened and she looked sympathetic. But that wasn't possible - there was no way that she could possibly understand what he dealt with, much less sympathize with it. He tugged at his hair again, feeling more and more vulnerable as she watched him in silence. He wanted to retract his offer, but he found that he couldn't. There was something about Isabella that called to him, and soothed him. She brought clarity to where there was haziness, and light to where there was darkness. Her presence kept the demons at bay. He knew, somehow, that he wouldn't need to turn all of the lights on if she was beside him. He couldn't quite explain it, and he didn't really want to either.

"I don't have any clothes," Isabella finally sighed in a voice that said that she was willing to stay.

"You can sleep in one of my shirts," Edward quickly offered. "And my driver can bring you to your apartment in the morning so you can get dressed."

"I'll be late to work," Isabella pointed out.

"I'll give everyone the day off," Edward countered. She was close to saying yes, and Edward was willing to take all of the stops out.

"You can't halt a day of productivity," Isabella replied, frowning.

"I can," Edward replied, taking a step forward. "I'll compensate by making Saturday a work day."

"That wouldn't be fair," Isabella murmured, looking genuinely concerned. "What if someone had plans with their family?"

Edward pulled at his hair. "Then I'll just give everyone a day off tomorrow out of the goodness of my heart," he said, desperate. "It doesn't matter to me. Besides, a break is long overdue."

Isabella turned her innocent, brown eyes to him, searching for something in his gaze that he hoped she would find.

"You can't do this for one person," she said softly, dropping her eyes.

"Isabella, _please_."

Perhaps it was because of the late hour, or perhaps it was because of the feeling of being saved from his nightly traumas, but Edward, in this moment felt totally and completely disarmed. He didn't care what the repercussions would be, he wanted - _needed_ - his angel to stay with him tonight. If he couldn't have forever, he would savor the time that he did have.

"Alright," she said softly.

Her acquiescence was gentle, but it sent strong flames of happiness down Edward's spine. He didn't try to keep the smile off of his face.

"I'll get one of my shirts for you," he said, trying to keep the boyish excitement out of his voice. "You can change in my bathroom. Follow me."

Moments later, Isabella stepped cautiously out of his bathroom, holding a neatly folded pile of clothes in one hand, and her shoes in the other. Her hair was pulled into a pony tail, giving her a youthful air. His shirt fell to her mid thigh, revealing creamy, smooth legs that Edward imagined wrapped around his waist, crossed at the ankle as he plunged deeply into...

"So, I imagine that I'll be sleeping on the couch," Isabella said gently, dragging him out of his reverie. Edward shifted in his position, trying to hide the arousal that now tented the boxers he had pulled on for her sake. Isabella's eyes dropped down at his motion, and he could feel her hot gaze on his groin. Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, and her cheeks flushed when Edward's arousal grew more prominent in response. Edward couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"No," Edward replied, not trying to mask the amusement that trickled into his voice. "You'll be sleeping here." He patted the space beside him on his bed, and her eyes widened. Her mouth opened to argue, but he stood and took her clothes and shoes from her before her refusal could work its way to her lips.

"Please," he whispered, dropping his lips to her ear. "I need you to be there with me."

Edward heard Isabella's sharp intake of breath, and he knew that he was purposely trying to charm her, but he felt no guilt. He would do anything that it took to get his angel into bed with him, and to keep her beside him for as long as he could.

She took a step back, tilting her chin to look up into his eyes.

"Alright," she said slowly. "But nothing inappropriate." Her voice was firm, and her eyes were serious, but Edward couldn't resist the urge to laugh. She was perfect.

"I promise," Edward replied, stepping away from her and setting her clothes on his dresser, and her shoes by the door.

When he turned around, Isabella had made her way to her side of the bed, and was sitting quietly, with her legs crossed, watching him. He grinned, and had to resist the urge to run to bed. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this excited to climb into bed.

He had only begun to settle himself down when Isabella opened her mouth.

"Edward?" she asked gently.

"Yes?"

There was a beat of silence as she thought over what she had to say.

"What was your nightmare about?"

Perhaps it was because of the darkness that shrouded them so he barely saw anything but the blurred outline of her face that Edward felt no need for pretenses.

"I can never remember," he said quietly, honestly.

Isabella was silent for a moment, digesting this information.

"Have you ever been to a professional?" she asked softly.

Edward laughed.

"No," he replied. "No one but you knows that I have these nightmares." There was a slight bitterness to his tone that he didn't know if Isabella did or didn't pick up on. If she did, she didn't say anything about it.

"Did something happen between you and your father?"

He froze for a moment, and turned his gaze to her, his eyes working to make out her features in the darkness.

"A lot has happened between me and Carlisle," he said quietly. A bare statement of the facts. There was no bitterness in his tone, and no anger. He was resigned to his situation.

There was a long silence between the two of them, so long that Edward would have thought that she had fallen asleep had she not still been sitting upright. He could hear the next question forming on her lips: _What about Tanya?_

He wouldn't be able to handle that question. So he spoke up first.

"Lay down," he said gently. "It's getting late."

She hesitated for a moment, and with a quiet sigh, made herself comfortable, turning her back to him. Only after her breathing became even, and he was sure that she was asleep, did Edward allow himself to drift off. Sleep came quickly that night.

**II.**

When Edward opened his eyes again, he was met with total darkness. It was the deepest part of night, but the only thing he felt was peace. He glanced at his clock and realized that he had a few more hours of rest - especially since he had given his employees off today. He wondered what had woken him up out of his sleep, and then he realized his predicament.

He was lying on his back, and his angel was tangled around him. She had left her side of the bed sometime in the middle of the night, and had glued herself to him, with one leg hitched over his hip and one arm slung around his neck. Her breathing was still even, but she was murmuring something that sounded suspiciously like his name. His arm was wrapped gently around her, as if shielding her from the world's evils and offering her a place of rest. He smiled, but he knew that she would surely be upset if she woke up and found them this way. He carefully detangled himself from her and brushed hairs that had worked their way loose during the night out of her face. He closed his eyes again and let sleep carry him off.

The second time Edward awoke from his sleep, it was that odd time of night when the sun's rays do battle with the darkness to claim its grip on the world. He still had several hours before he was due to wake up, but again, Isabella was wrapped securely in his arms. It was as if they were magnetized, and couldn't help but be drawn to each other. Still, this time, his body was aflame with arousal.

He was spooning her, and his legs were tangled with hers. The arm that was under her had snaked its way up her shirt, and now possessively grasped one of her soft breasts, while the other arm rested on her hip. His hand was partly resting on her bare stomach, and his pinky had worked its way under the waistband of her panties. His partner stood erect and at attention, nestled tightly against her bottom. He groaned when Isabella shifted, sending flares of pleasure and heat up his spine. He couldn't handle this, he was going to combust.

He tried to disengage himself, but Isabella's body protested. She wiggled and moved, moving his hands across soft flesh, and arousing him to the point of pain. Her movements were slow and lazy, but direct. Maybe having her stay over wasn't such a good idea after all.

Her mouth fell open into a little 'o' and her brows knitted together, as if she were searching for something she couldn't find. Her hips moved desperately against him, and Edward fought to remain still, but try as he might, there was no way that he could refuse his angel and withhold pleasure from her.

His hand sprung into action the moment that he gave up the battle, kneading her breast and rolling the taut nipple between his fingers. She sighed with pleasure when he dipped his head to plant open mouthed kisses on her neck. His other hand dipped below the waistband of her underwear, and he was surprised to feel the moisture that had already been collecting there. He forced his hips to stay still, determined to please her only with his hands and his mouth.

He cupped her gently, and then began working her over with his fingers, sliding one inside of her slowly. She arched her back, releasing a soft sigh of relief when his finger entered her. He kissed a trail from her shoulder to behind her ear, as he continued kneading her breast, gently but with focus. Without warning, he slipped a second finger into her, and used his thumb to massage her clitoris. Her skin was warm, and her hips rolled quickly. She was close.

"Edward," she moaned softly, spurring him on.

He curled his fingers, and her body arched and then tensed, her eyes screwing shut as the pleasure of her orgasm rolled over her in waves. Edward withdrew his fingers after a moment, and Isabella's eyes shot open, her breathing labored.

"Edward?" she whispered.

Edward steeled himself for her reaction. She would be livid, he knew, but he couldn't help himself. Shame filled him as he realized exactly what he had just done. He opened his mouth to apologize, but he didn't have the chance.

She flew at him, locking her lips with his, and reaching her small hands into his hair, massaging her scalp. She settled her hips firmly on top of his, grinding herself onto his erection. Pleasure bloomed and exploded behind his eyes as he rested his hands on her rolling hips, and let himself be lost in the heat of her mouth and the feeling of her tongue as it stroked and dueled with his.

"Isabella," he said when she had pulled away momentarily, keeping her mouth close to his as they tried to catch their breaths.

"Shh," she whispered, covering his lips with her again, and he was lost.

He rolled her over, and expertly flicked off her panties. Her shirt was gone, and he wasn't sure if that was his doing or hers. He dragged his lips away from hers and kissed a trail down to her breasts, flicking his tongue out to greet one nipple as his hand worked his ministrations on the other one. He sucked her nipple slowly into his mouth, and was rewarded with a soft cry from her. Her breasts were perfect, they weren't as large as Tanya's, but they were large enough that they satisfied him. He switched breasts, treating the other one with as much care as the first.

"Edward," Isabella breathed, pulling at his hair and massaging his scalp. He shivered with pleasure as he pulled away and kissed a line down to her stomach.

She froze as she realized his intent.

"Edward -" she began, but her breath caught in her throat when he flicked out his tongue and dragged it across her lips. Her thighs instinctively sought to squeeze together, but he gently held her knees apart as he worked her over, straightening his tongue and curling it to bring her to the top of her cliff. Suddenly, without warning, he slid two fingers into her again, and after a few attempts, he found that special spot. He curled his fingers, and she came completely unhinged, screaming his name and other incoherent things as her orgasm over took her.

When her body had stilled enough for her to remember the man between her legs, she pulled at his arms. He obediently drew up to meet her. Her eyes burned into his for a moment, and then she kissed him hard, her mouth full of passion and fire.

She dragged her core against his erection, and Edward almost collapsed.

"Please," she whimpered into his ear.

He was powerless to refuse her, but...

"I'm on the shot," she said, her voice breathy with need.

He didn't think further than that - he couldn't. He slid into her with one swift stroke, and her back arched up as she moaned sounds of pleasure. He kissed the peaks of her breasts, and tried desperately not to cum. He had never been able to fully sheath himself in a woman before. He had come close, but he always had to stop for fear of hurting her. This time, however, he had unthinkingly entered Isabella, and thankfully she had taken all of him. He peered at her face, looking for any trace of pain, but he found none. His arousal grew even more - a feat Edward didn't think possible.

She was tight and warm around him, and her inner walls still trembled slightly from her last orgasm. She was perfect, and he fit perfectly inside of her, as if she were made for him. He had to still himself for a moment to get himself under control. Isabella, however, was impatient.

She bucked her hips, desperate for him to move. He gritted his teeth, and tried to count backward from 500 as he slowly dragged himself out of her. Isabella's nails raked down his back, combining pleasure and pain for him at a level he had never experienced. Colors were exploding behind his eyelids, and he couldn't hear anything but Isabella's whimpers and moans over the sound of rushing blood in his ears.

He slammed back into her, and then pounded out a rhythm. She came around him, shattering into pieces, and clutching his cock, but he didn't stop, he was relentless. She came again, and then a third time before her body finally convinced him that it had been pleasured beyond anything it had ever known, milking his own release out of him.

He collapsed on top of her, spent, and high off of a dizzying blend of emotions. His heart beat wildly inside of his chest, like a bird desperate to be free of its cage.

Isabella stroked his back lazily with one hand, and massaged his scalp with the other, humming with pleasure. He didn't know how long they lay like that before he realized that he was collapsed on top of her, and he rolled off of her, exiting her body softly. He immediately wanted to be sheathed within her again. He rolled her with him, letting her rest herself half on the bed, and half on his body. No words passed between them as they lay in the post coital hazy aftermath of elation and pleasure and calm. Edward was filled with so much happiness and so much joy, he couldn't explain it. Gone was the anger and bitterness and coldness that he kept wrapped tightly around his heart, and here was warmth and comfort to replace it.

He found, however, that contrary to his expectations, the flame within him that burned for Isabella was not extinguished. If anything, it burned brighter and hotter than before. He knew, for a fact, that he didn't care about Mr. Garrett Addams, or his father, or Tanya, or anything that could possibly keep him from Isabella. She absolutely had to be his, and it was imperative that he convince her to feel the same. He needed to assure himself that the flame that burned for her burned within her for him as well. He determined that from this point onward he do anything necessary to keep her by his side. And if it turned out that he couldn't...

He couldn't think about that. He knew one thing for certain: if he got her, he wouldn't be able to survive losing her.

* * *

**Oh boy! Thoughts? I'm eager to hear what you all have to say about this. I know I wasn't expecting this turn of events...**

**Read, Review, Repeat! Bisouss :***


	8. Slowly Awake

**Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, presenting... CHAPTER EIGHT!  
**

Disclaimer: Not a single character is owned by me. I just like dressing them up and making them do kooky things!

* * *

**Slowly Awake**

**I.**

Isabella awoke slowly, gradually becoming aware of surroundings. She felt satiated and well-rested, a welcome change from her usual sleeping habits. She was under a thick, soft blanket, and surrounded by a distinctly masculine scent that simultaneously warmed and excited her. She stretched lazily, reluctant to open her eyes. She was so comfortable, she wished that she would never have to leave this cozy nook that surrounded her.

"Good morning," a gentle masculine voice greeted her, sending shivers through her body. She opened her eyes, and took a sharp intake of breath as brown eyes met sharp green ones.

"Good morning," she replied shyly.

The night's events suddenly washed over her, and she remembered exactly where she was and why. She felt the warmth rising to her cheeks as embarrassment wrapped itself around her shoulders, as thick as a blanket. She dropped her eyes and bit her lip. Surely having sex with her boss was highly inappropriate - but she would have been lying to herself if she said she didn't want his intimacy as badly as she had ever wanted anything in her life. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Suddenly, images and memories were pounding at her skull, vying to be seen. Faces, places and words rushed at her at lightning speed and she squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught. She tried to focus on breathing through her nose and calming herself down, but it seemed she had hit a particular trigger that refused to be turned off. Tears prickled her eyes and slid past her eyelids as her memories turned on her, attacking her with a force that she had never encountered. She felt totally helpless and weak. It was as if she was a teenager again, living through these moments, being tormented, abused, bullied - she started hyperventilating. All of the tricks she had learned had failed her, and she couldn't even muster the strength to find her emergency medication. A slow whine started from the back of her head and pounded at her ears. Spots danced and waned behind her eyelids, and nausea started to roll in her stomach.

"Isabella," Edward called, concern lacing his voice. She felt large hands frame her face, and pull her into a strong chest.

"Isabella, let me save you."

As quickly as the fit had started, it passed, and Isabella opened her eyes. A sheen of sweat had covered her, and her breathing was labored, but she was otherwise fine. There was no lingering headache, and no traces of nausea. Edward ran his hands across her back, soothing her.

Isabella took a deep breath and steeled herself. She moved away from Edward and sat up, avoiding his searching gaze.

"Are you okay?"

Edward was concerned; his eyes searched her body for a physical infirmity, but he found none. His fingers followed the gaze of his eyes, assuring themselves that there wasn't something below her skin that ailed her. As soon as they had satisfied themselves, however, their graze began to linger, igniting a slow burn underneath her skin that spread as a deep blush to her cheeks. Waves crashed within her, stirring into a stormy sea of confusion and reluctance that battled with an intense desire to be closer to him. Her better sense won out, and she pulled away with a gasp.

"No," she said shakily, her breath coming out in short puffs. "No," she repeated more firmly, putting more distance between herself and the coppery headed man before her.

Her eyes drifted up to meet inquisitive, bright green ones.

"No?" he asked, his eyes glinting with a sudden realization, and his lip curving up in a mischievous smile. He drew closer to her, his muscles sliding powerfully under his skin, very much looking like a predator stalking its prey. Isabella felt nearly paralyzed, she moved back only an inch, watching his slow but steady approach.

His gaze never left hers, igniting a slow burn that started in the core of her stomach and radiated slowly outward. Finally, he had her flat on her back, caging her in with his strong forearms. Isabella tried to keep her eyes open as he ducked his head closer and closer to hers, giving her a chance to move away while adding to the tension that reared and snapped between them.

Her eyes crossed as his head drew nearer, blurring deep coppers and bright greens and smooth pale skin and just as she closed her eyes, his lips met hers, sending a jolt of electricity running down her spine. His mouth was gentle, but unyielding, nipping at the edges of her lips before flicking out his tongue to soothe the sting. The pleasure and pain blurred gently together as he sent her into a slow rising storm of desire, working her over with his lips alone.

"Edward," she breathed, as his lips dropped to her throat, sending shoots of fire down to her core, making her writhe in a heated anticipation.

She couldn't let this happen.

"Edward," she said more forcefully, pushing at his shoulders. He looked up lazily, his eyes glazed over with lust. Isabella wormed out from underneath him, climbing off of the bed. Panic began filling her the moment her feet touched the ground.

"We-We can't do this," she stuttered, her hands finding their way into her hair where she pulled at it nervously. "This is wrong."

Edward, from his place on the bed, rubbed his chest and surveyed her, one eyebrow lifted in amusement.

"Come back to bed," he murmured with a voice of velvet. "You'll get over this soon."

Isabella began pacing, trying to ease her mind and quell the rising panic. This was wrong. This was terrible. This was how she had gotten ostracized in Forks, and now she was putting herself in the same position again, with a man she didn't know at all. She fought tears from spilling, but she couldn't keep the tear choked mark out of her voice.

"Get over this soon?" she asked, trying to voice the spite that had risen along with the panic. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Edward ran a lazy hand through his hair, obviously at ease with the situation.

"Nothing," he said slowly. "Just stop worrying, come back to bed."

"No," Isabella said forcefully, trying to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her emotions were in disarray, and spots flew in her vision. She needed Jasper. She was going to be sick. "This was wrong. This shouldn't have happened. This can never happen again."

Edward sat up, and sighed something that sounded like exasperation. "You didn't seem to have any complaints last night," he pointed out. "In fact, _you_ came on to _me_. So why are you freaking out?"

Isabella stared at him, shock and disbelief making her jaw slack. "I-I..."

Edward rose an eyebrow. "Just calm down and come back to bed," he soothed.

"Where are my clothes?" Isabella demanded, tearing her gaze way from him so he wouldn't see the moisture that began to build there. "Where are my clothes?!"

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded like that of a woman coming unhinged, she rifled through the pile of clothes that had been stacked neatly on a chair by the dresser, but her vision was blurred and fat drops of salty tears slid down her cheek, impeding the process.

Isabella didn't feel Edward approach until he had pulled her into his chest, and stilled her movements, providing a temporary safe place in her storm of emotions. But just as quickly as she was stilled, she was thrown into a more violent maelstrom of panic, confusion, fear and anger. She had barely been in New York for a few weeks, and she had already whored herself out to her boss.

"D-Don't touch me!" Isabella cried, hysteria gripping her lungs as she tore away from him, trying to keep ugly sobs from escaping her mouth. Hands reached out to steady her, but for a moment she was lost in her past and the hands that grabbed her were not the long, slender and graceful ones that had caressed her last night, but they were the grubby, sweaty ones that sought to pin her down and violate her.

She ripped her arms from the hold of her captor, stumbling blindly into something.

"I'm _not_ your whore!" she shrieked, tears running freely down her face, as her head spun and ached with memories and emotions. "I'm not your whore!" she repeated, her voice sounding to her as if it came from far away, from under a tunnel. She staggered for a moment, and her vision dimmed as she hit something else. She caught a glimpse of bright green and deep copper, and she clutched herself, letting the crashing waves of panic overcome her and drown her.

She sank further under the waves, letting the deep and the dark pull her closer.

"Please," she murmured softly as her vision dimmed again, blurring and crossing as spots swam before her, growing wider and wider, yawning and stretching wide enough to encompass her whole being, swallowing her whole. The world tipped on its side.

And then it was silent, and dark, and still.

**II.**

"Come back to me, baby girl."

The voice was rugged and slightly raspy. Fatigue barbed the familiar Southern accent, and long fingers wrapped themselves around her own.

"C'mon baby girl, you've seen worse. Why don't you open up your eyes for me?"

It was Jasper. He brought his other hand up to fan her cheek, trying to coax her to awaken, but Isabella was trapped in a murky pool that made her limbs feel heavy and made her want to sink further down, to the bottom, and sleep forever.

"Fight for me, baby girl," Jasper whispered.

It was as if he were thousands of miles above her, unable to reach down and pull her out of the well she was languishing in. But the more he murmured to her, the more strength she felt draining into her bones. She began struggling, slowly at first. The water she was in dragged across her skin, making her efforts to move useless. She focused on the fingers that remained clasped tightly against her own, fighting to open her eyes, or at least squeeze Jasper's fingers in reassurance. Consciousness, however, evaded her.

"What are you doing in here?" Jasper's voice had suddenly turned cold. He was speaking to someone who had entered the room. Isabella fought off the weariness that tried to drag her under, focusing as hard as she could on the response of whoever Jasper had spoken to.

"I wanted to make sure she was okay," the voice answered stonily.

It was Edward.

"How chivalrous of you," Jasper replied scornfully. "Checking in on the patient you placed in the hospital."

"I didn't know she would -" Edward's voice faltered.

"Didn't know, is it?" Jasper cut him off, his fingers sliding from Isabella's grasp as his chair scraped back and he stood up. "Brought a lass into bed with you and you 'didn't know' that your actions could throw her into a panic fit?"

"How was I supposed to know that she would react like that? She didn't seem to mind me when she agreed to stay over the night."

"You had no business inviting your _employee_ into bed with you in the first place!" Jasper reprimanded in a voice that strained, as if he had to fight to keep from yelling. "You must have known that she was new to the city, so you figured that you'd use the small town girl as you pleased, huh? Thought her naïve?"

"You're completely out of line."

"Am I? You saw your opportunity, and you jumped at it. You don't _care_ about her," Jasper fumed. "You care that the sack you were sticking your dick into suddenly freaked out on you. So what is it? Afraid she'll file a lawsuit? Cry rape? Tell the tabloids that you've a small penis?"

"You don't know _anything_ about me, or what happened between us," Edward snarled.

"You're right," Jasper replied venomously. "What I do know is that a big time CEO saw his chance with a young, innocent, fresh faced small-town girl, and he took it. Aye, I don't blame you. It's what a man of your type would do." The last insult was hurled with disgust and the tension in the room was palpable. Still, Isabella couldn't force her eyes open to settle the score, and tell Jasper that it wasn't Edward's fault. She could only lie there and wait for her body to respond to her as the two men saw it fit to argue.

"You're right," Edward finally replied, his voice dripping with acid. "Perhaps if you had kept better control of your friend, she wouldn't have landed in this situation. New York City is not a place for the weak."

There was a sudden shuffling of curtains as Edward disappeared. Jasper remained standing for a moment longer before drawing his chair closer to the hospital bed, and pressing his forehead into Isabella's palm.

"I'm so sorry, baby girl," he whispered. "I should've never let you come alone."

Isabella, however, couldn't pay attention to anything more than the last thing that Edward had said. She fought with renewed vigor to break the surface of consciousness. She _would_ survive in New York. She would prove all of them wrong.

But first, she would have to recover.

* * *

**Sorry for the late update! I'm right smack in the middle of finals week. (My last final is December 23rd! The barbarity!) I'm thinking of starting up another story, called **The Virgin Madame** and perhaps a one-shot called **Help Wanted** so keep an eye out for those! Wish me luck on finals, and as always: Read, Review, Repeat!**


	9. Unintentionally Collapse

**This next chapter is brought to you by: an author who never stops studying, but loves reviews like a dieter loves hamburgers..**

Disclaimer: You've heard it so many times, you could probably write it yourself ;)

* * *

**Unintentionally Collapse**

**I.**

When Isabella opened her eyes, the curtains were drawn, and dusk had begun to settle in her room. She blinked a few times to clear the sleep out of her eyes, and squinted to make sure that the shadow that was moving at the foot of her bed was real, and not a product of her imagination. The shadow stepped into the light, and the kind grandmotherly face of the orderly that had been assigned to her that night smiled down at her.

"How do you feel, dear?" she asked, fiddling with what Isabella supposed was the IV that was plunged deep into her arm.

"I feel -"

Isabella hesitated and paused with the exertion she had used to utter those two words. Her jaw was heavy and her tongue felt like lead. She blinked slowly and looked up at the orderly, her eyebrows screwed together in what she hoped looked like confusion.

"Oh that, just the medications they've got you on," the woman cooed nonchalantly as she fussed over Isabella's bed coverings.

"They had you in an induced coma for a while. But don't worry your darling little head about it, the effects should wear off before your boyfriend gets back. He's a doll, you know," the woman paused and blushed, glancing at Isabella before plowing on. "Just the sweetest young man. You don't find them like that anymore. He's been beside your bed from sun up to sun down. You hold on to him tight, you hear?"

Boyfriend?

Isabella supposed the woman was referring to Jasper. She smiled inside, remembering when Alice had mistaken Jasper for her boyfriend as well. It was a mistake that people made that had encouraged her and Jasper to try their hand at having a relationship of that nature. Needless to say, it didn't work out for them. They found that a platonic friendship worked best for them, and refusing to lose the other, had settled for that instead.

She felt bad, now, as she considered Jasper. Apparently, he had flown in early to care for her, which made her feel like she had failed at proving to him that she could survive on her own without him. It was likely now that he wouldn't believe her if she said she was fine, and he would postpone flying back into Forks unless he absolutely had to. A feeling of depression settled over her as it dawned on her that once again, Jasper was putting his life on hold for her.

"How are you feeling now?" the woman prompted, bringing her a large cup of water, which Isabella downed gratefully. She hadn't realized how thirsty she had been.

"Better," Isabella replied. Her words still sounded slurred, but she didn't feel like lead anymore, and it was easier to move around.

"How long was I out?" she asked, testing her new strength.

"Four days," the orderly replied factually. "Almost five. They wanted to keep you under for a while longer, but they couldn't get the consent to do so."

"What happened to me?" Isabella asked. An odd feeling of weightlessness had begun to settle over her, lifting her spirits. She supposed that it was another side-effect of whatever drug they had given her.

"A psychotic episode, I suppose," the woman replied, changing the sheets from underneath Isabella in a surprisingly nimble way.

"You'll have to ask the doctors when they come in later this afternoon. You'll have to be evaluated by our psychiatrist before they release you though."

Panic would have flooded her had it not been for the traces of the drugs still in her system. She shouldn't have been so bothered - she had undergone this process before, she could definitely do it again. Suddenly she was glad that Jasper was in New York and not in Forks.

"Ah, here comes that boyfriend of yours," the orderly whispered conspiratorially, winking before making quick work of arranging Isabella's pillows.

"Myrtle," a familiar masculine voice greeted the woman as she left the room. "Is that a new hair cut?"

The woman giggled like a schoolgirl and murmured some pleasantries in response. Isabella had the sneaking suspicion that the woman, who Isabella assumed was called Myrtle, had a crush on Jasper.

Footsteps approached and the curtain shuffled as the new guest pulled them back.

"Jasper -" Isabella began, prepared to begin the long task of convincing him that she was indeed fine.

However, instead of bright blue, piercing eyes, Isabella met emerald green ones, and an unmistakable shock of coppery hair.

"E-Edward?"

**II.**

Edward's brow furrowed in concern as he approached the bed. Every footstep ignited a spark of panic and a rush of desire, both of which were quickly quieted by the medicine still in Isabella's system.

"You're awake," he breathed, sitting down on the chair beside her bed, and leaning forward to grasp her hand with both of his.

He looked at her for a long time, searching for something in Isabella's face that she hoped she would be able to give him. There was an inexplicable pull between herself and the man who now sat before her. She couldn't explain it, but the bond that had wrapped itself around them felt older than time itself. It felt instinctual, and it demanded to be recognized.

"I'm so, so sorry," he murmured, his breath blowing a trail of warmth across her fingertips. He bent his head, pressing his forehead into the back of her hand.

"I don't know - I didn't know - I wouldn't have -"

"It's alright," Isabella soothed, bringing her other hand up to run through the coppery tresses that stood in a disarray stop his head. "How could you have known?"

When he brought his head up, his eyes were rimmed in pink. Clear desolation shone from his eyes as he took in her appearance. The words of the orderly came back to her, he had been by her bedside from sun up to sundown. A spring of warmth and minute affection for him welled within her, and for a moment all she wanted was to be gathered up in his arms and savor the feeling of positive intimacy.

"I told you to stay away from her."

Jasper's voice was icy, and sliced through the feelings of warmth like a hot knife through butter. Edward tensed, and stood up. His jaw flexed with rage, and his fingers slipped from Isabella's.

"Jasper," Isabella said softly, reaching her hand out, palm upturned. An invitation, a request, an ultimatum.

A moment of silence passed as the two men locked eyes in a duel, a battle of dominance and masculinity. Finally Jasper broke eye contact, and took Isabella's hand, lacing his fingers with hers and bending to press a fleeting kiss to her fingers.

"Leave," he said dangerously, straightening and meeting Edward's gaze. "Now," he growled out, the challenge in his words were thinly veiled.

Edward bristled, and Isabella put her hand on his forearm. He hesitated, and after what seemed like a battle with himself, looked down at her.

"Jasper's right," Isabella said softly, wishing she didn't have to choose between her best friend and the mysterious man with the flashing green eyes and the perpetually messy coppery hair.

"You should go," she affirmed gently, squeezing his forearm.

Edward paused, then deflated, letting out all of the fight that burned in his eyes with an exhale. He bent and brushed his lips over her own, and then kissed her forehead to the obvious discomfort of Jasper. Without another word, Edward brushed past the curtains and disappeared, the room door clicking quietly in his wake.

"Jasper..." Isabella sighed, prepared to launch into her age old argument that she would be fine, and that Jasper did not need to baby her as much as he did.

"I know what you're going to say, Bells," he said, detangling his fingers from her grasp and pacing the room.

"You're going to tell me that you're fine, and I don't need to be here. But look at you!" he exclaimed, turning sharply around and motioning to her position there on the bed. She supposed she must be a sorry sight.

"You're not alright. You keep saying that I'm postponing my life to watch over you, but has it ever occurred to you that you're flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood? Do you really think that any success I could have would be true happiness if I knew you were alone and sick somewhere?"

"Jasper -" Isabella ventured.

"No. You're always caring for someone else and never for yourself!"

"Jasper, I'm not a child," Isabella said slowly. "You can't keep coddling me like I am one."

"What is that supposed to mean, Isabella?" Jasper asked quietly, turning to face her. His expression was thunderous. Isabella dropped her eyes.

"It means you don't have the right to be telling me what to do, to dictate who can and can't see me, or to fly in from Forks and assume the role of my parent. You are not my father."

There was a long moment of silence that hissed and snapped with tension.

"Is it because of that guy?" Jasper asked, referring to Edward. His lip curled up in disgust. Isabella could see the tension in his muscles from where she lay. He didn't move an inch, waiting for her answer. She closed her eyes.

"If he wants to be here, he has just as much of a right as you do."

"Isabella-"

"Stop trying to tell me how to live my life. You can't make my choices for me!"

"Clearly you need someone to make your choices for you, you're obviously not capable of making them on your own!"

Isabella's eyes shot open. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her eyes prickled with tears, but she fought them off.

"What?" she asked in a low voice. "What did you just say?"

"Isabella, I didn't mean to -"

"Get out."

"Isabella, I -"

"Jasper, get _out_."

"Isabella, please, I -"

"Get out!" Isabella shrieked, the dam behind her eyes breaking and setting free rivers of tears that rolled down her face and dampened the neck of the hospital gown she wore. "Get out! Get out!"

A nurse and an orderly hustled into the room, and began fiddling with one of the liquid filled bags that connected to Isabella's arm.

"Get out!" she cried again. "Get out!"

The orderly held Isabella down in a surprisingly firm grip, waiting for a cue from the nurse. Slowly, the medicine the nurse had administered began to kick in. She nodded minutely to the orderly, and the orderly relaxed her grip on Isabella, waiting a few extra minutes before finally releasing her.

Isabella was being pulled under again, slowly, slowly. Immobilization started from her toes and reached up to encompass the rest of her body, settling over her like a warm blanket.

The last thing she saw before she succumbed to the darkness was a head of spiky black hair that found its way over to Jasper. Distorted voices waned in Isabella's consciousness, and she thought she heard something that sounded like 'Alice.'

Then, all was dark.

**III.**

"Yes, but what happened to me?"

The effects of the drugs had finally worn off completely, leaving Isabella completely lucid. She sat now in a large, overstuffed couch in a quaint little room in the corner of the hospital. She was in the office of the resident psychiatrist, and she found that it was very difficult to get answers out of the little man who insisted that she call him Brian, his first name.

"Well, Isabella," he said now, leaning forward on his desk after nudging his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You had an episode. You've gone through some traumatic experiences, and you hit what is called a trigger. Do you know what a trigger is?"

"Yes, I-"

"A trigger," Brian continued, as if she had never spoken. His eyes were glazed over with the look that an academic gets when speaking about a topic they are particularly passionate about.

"A trigger is something that causes your brain to believe that you are in the traumatic situation that you've experienced. It could be a sight, a sound, a smell, a touch, a taste - anything really. Now, a trigger sets off a very interesting process - that's why it's called a trigger - it causes your brain to go into what we like to call 'defensive mode.'" Brian took off his glasses and wiped them with a dainty kerchief, rubbing slow, precise circles as he spoke.

"Defensive mode is a position that your brain takes to protect itself. For some people, the brain shuts down the body completely, believing itself to be in grave danger. For others, it divides its personality, creating an alternate that has not experienced the trauma. The brain can then cope with normal life as if it had never lived through the trauma, unbeknownst to the true personality. And for you, your brain bombards you with a combination of sights and sounds. It makes you weak, which is understandable, and I wouldn't be surprised if you got nosebleeds as well."

"Doctor," Isabella said gently, trying to coax him out of his academia. "I know all of this, I've spoken with my psychiatrist back home. He prescribed me medication that would help me to handle this," Isabella paused, searching for a word. "Situation," she settled with, pushing her hair behind her ears and out of her face.

"What I want to know," she plowed on, seeing that she had caught the psychiatrist's attention, "Is what _exactly_ happened to me. I've had episodes before, but never anything that bad."

"Oh that's a simple question," Brian said, delighted, as he placed his glasses back on. "You hit a particular trigger that has never been agitated before. Or at least, it hasn't been agitated in a long time. Your mind believed you to be in some grave danger. Then, you had some chemical misfires, and you fainted - your body's attempt to protect itself. That's why you were in a medically induced coma. The doctors didn't know if your mind would be able to work through the trauma and stabilize itself while conscious. Likely, you would've experienced bouts of unconsciousness."

"But what about what happened with Jasper? I've never been so angry before... Especially not at him..." Isabella trailed off.

"Jasper?"

"Yes, one of my visitors," Isabella replied, twisting her fingers. "I got very upset with him and began screaming, so one of the nurses gave me something that knocked me out."

"Ah, yes. That was a side effect of one of the medications," Brian answered factually. "Your feelings were amplified."

"So I was mad? It wasn't just the drugs in my system?"

"Oh yes," Brian answered laughing. "Medication can not create emotions, but the hormones that are released when you are experiencing a certain emotion can most certainly be amplified, causing a larger reaction that what you might have otherwise experienced."

Isabella bit her lip. That made sense. After all, it hurt even now to hear Jasper accuse her of making wrong decisions. It was like he was telling her that everything that had happened to her was _her_ fault. Like she had been _asking_ for it.

"Isabella," Brian said gently. "Would you like to talk about your trauma?"

Isabella looked up, blinking.

"No," she said firmly. "Not at all."

* * *

**Back to studying! An update for **TVM (Tales of a Virgin Madame)** should be up sometime soon, if any of you are following that! **

**As always, I can't wait to hear what you all have to say. Read, Review and Repeat!**


End file.
